


Arandil, Princess of Mirkwood

by Arandil



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-13
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-08 14:08:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 37,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1133557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arandil/pseuds/Arandil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We've all seen the girl-falls-into-middle-earth story. In fact, I may be guilty of having written one... But what happens to that tried and true story when the girl is unexpectedly accompanied by...her husband? Humor. Not MarySue bashing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Almost Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> You know, if people are going to continue to accuse me of self inserts then blast it all – I'm dropping myself into Middle Earth; along with an unexpected tag-a-long. Hope you enjoy my trials and tribulations and take it all with a grain of salt.

I smiled as I woke up and opened my eyes, glancing around the room. The open architecture, the beautifully intricate carvings; there was only one place I could be. _It worked!_ I thought excitedly, _And_ _if I'm really here, then I must have gotten the timing right as well._

Rivendell, Imladris, the Last Homely House, had _no_ idea what it was in for. Apparently, neither did I.

I stretched languidly and rose to get up. Only then did I realize that I was not alone in my bed. _Oh, this just gets better and better,_ I thought eagerly. Who was it? An elf? A man? A little of both? I felt giddy anticipation picturing whose bed I had ended up in. I rolled over and looked at the back of the man (because it did turn out to be a man) who was lying there, still peacefully sleeping. And then I screamed.

The man jumped at the sound of my blood-curdling yell and fell out of the bed. He stood up and turned angry eyes on me.

"What the hell?" he snapped, cranky from having been woken up so violently. I pointed a shaky finger at him.

"What are _you_ doing here?" I demanded hoarsely. This was not right. This was most definitely not right.

"What do you mean, what am I…?" He started to ask and then looked around the room. His eyes got wide, a frightened expression on his face, and he turned back to me. "Where the hell _are_ we?" he asked quietly.

Before I had a chance to answer, there was a knock at the door. I walked over to answer it and a beautiful elf, for she was an elf judging by the brightness of her eyes and the point of her ears, stepped into the room.

"Welcome to Imladris, miss," she said in clear English, and the part of me that actually cared about canon winced. The rabid fangurl, of course, smiled broadly.

"Thank you." I said with a small incline of my head. "May I ask how we came to be here?"

"You were both found at our border, lying on the ground unconscious. My father felt you should be brought here to be helped and questioned." The Elf smiled. "I am Arwen, daughter of Elrond, Lord of Imladris."

"Arwen?" the man walked up to stand besides me. "Why do I know that name?" I shushed him and turned back to Arwen.

"I am Arandil, and this," I gestured to the man, "is my husband, Justin."

"You are _who_?" Justin was looking at me with a why-are-you-so-weird look.

"Shut _up_ for a second." I hissed at him urgently.

"Arandil, Justin, my father will wish to speak to you, but he is busy at the moment. There have come some visitors that need his attention." She smiled and tilted her head. "You are of many that appeared at our borders these past few days. Although," she laughed, a beautiful melodious sound, "the others all were awake and well when they arrived."

She gave a small courteous bow. "I shall come for you when he is ready. If you need anything, there are plenty of elves about that can help you." With that, she exited the room and I was left with my husband; my glaring, irate husband. I took a deep breath and turned to him. He was so not going to be happy about this.

"What did you tell her your name was? And where the hell are we? Did she just say _elves_?" His eyes narrowed. "Please tell me we're not where I'm beginning to think we are."

I grinned nervously at him. "Yup. We're kind of in Rivendell. In Middle Earth." I giggled. "Surprise!"

"Are you kidding me?" he asked, sounding quite irritated.

"No." Well, you know what; Justin may have ended up there too, but I wasn't going to let him ruin my fun. "We're in Rivendell. So let's go look around!"

"Oh, hell no." He shook his head. "I don't know why we're here, but I am not about to go wandering around some strange place where there are _elves_." I couldn't tell if he was frightened or just being stubborn. I tried to think of a way to convince him.

"Aren't you even the least bit curious to see Legolas?" I smiled sweetly at him. "See what he _really_ looks like?" The prospect gave me excited chills.

"No." he said flatly.

"Frodo?"

"No."

"Aragorn? You said he kicked ass."

He pressed his lips together. "He kicked ass in a _movie_." He looked up, thinking about something for a moment and then smiled and looked at me. "Maybe I do want to see Frodo. I can tell him to get on the boat faster so my ass doesn't fall asleep."

I rolled my eyes and looked at the sky for patience. "That's super." I shook my head. "You know, I sent myself here so I could have fun, and you are _not_ going to ruin it for me." It figures. I finally work out how to get myself into Middle Earth, and my anti-Tolkien husband has to end up tagging along.

"You sent yourself here?" he asked, frowning at me.

"Yes." I answered slowly, wary at his tone.

" _You're_ responsible for us being here?"

"Yeah, but I have no clue why _you're_ here. It was supposed to just be me."

"Great." He smiled, obviously not as offended by me wanting to run off to Middle Earth and cavort with elves without him as I would have expected. "Send me back then."

I looked at the ground and mumbled something that resembled 'I don't know how.'

"What?" he demanded. It was never a good thing, when his voice took on that tone.

"I kind of don't know how." I grinned meekly at him.

"Do you mean to tell me, you sent us here without a way to get _back_?" he yelled, which pisses me off every time.

"Ok, you know what," I finally snapped. "This was supposed to be _my_ fantasy. And if you're going to yell at me, I don't want to talk to you anymore." I stuck chin out and smirked at him as I said my next words. "I'm going to go find Legolas. Maybe _he_ can talk civilly to me."

"You don't know where he is." Justin answered with narrowed eyes. There was a dangerous warning tone to his voice.

"I'll find him." I snapped and ran out of the room before Justin could stop me.

* * *

Legolas was not hard to locate. I asked the first Elf I came across where I could find Legolas. Of course, much to my dismay and embarrassment, that Elf _was_ Legolas. Try explaining to someone why you're looking for them when you obviously don't know who they are. Try doing that when your heart is beating at three times its normal rate.

So once I convinced him that I was completely harmless, that I had just heard of him and heard he was here, and wanted to see the much-talked-about best archer of Mirkwood (apparently male Elves are as susceptible to flattery as any man), he agreed to walk through the beautiful gardens of Rivendell with me.

Now, _this_ was what I pictured, not screaming fights in the Last Homely Home with my husband. _Justin_. I felt a brief pang of guilt. I at least knew enough about this place to get by. Poor Justin, although dragged to the movies, knew little to nothing about Middle Earth, and even less about Elves. I would be terrified in his position.

But, my inner fangurl did not let my thoughts linger on Justin for more than a moment. In fact, I had almost forgotten about him until I heard his voice behind us.

"Hey..uh…Arandil?"

Impressed that he remembered the name I gave Arwen, I smiled as I turned around. I saw, however, that Legolas did not.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry. I just …" he stopped what he was saying and eyed Legolas as if he just noticed him. "Wait. Who's this?"

"Justin, this is Legolas, son of Thranduil, Prince of Mirkwood." I turned to Legolas. "Legolas…this is Justin." Legolas put his fist to his chest in the Elven greeting. My husband, however, simply looked at the Elf with his jaw set.

"So you're _the_ Legolas." I don't think I've ever seen my husband looking quite so…so…I don't know. Like a cave man defending his woman. "I've heard a lot of interesting stuff about you." he sneered at the Elf.

This was probably my fault, somehow. I mean, ever since the movies came out I had been all, "Legolas, this," and "Touch the pretty elf, that." I should have realized that although my husband was not a jealous man, if given the opportunity, he would get some of his own back. Still, I was not prepared for what happened next.

Legolas arched an elegant eyebrow, looking more dangerous than anybody that pretty should look. "Such as?" he asked, his voice cold as ice.

And then Justin, dear, sweet, understanding Justin, smirked at the famed Prince of Mirkwood. "Just that you and Gimli the Dwarf are quite a bit more than friends."

And suddenly, the Elven object of my inner luster's desire had an arrow pointed at my poor husband's throat.


	2. Book Legolas and the Misdirected Luster

I watched in horror as the bow was pulled tighter. I have to say, I was immensely impressed with my husband who held Legolas's gaze with a stony cold stare of his own. I personally would have started blubbering like a baby by this point.

"You're a real brave Elven warrior." Justin said through clenched teeth. "Threatening an unarmed man." I covered my eyes, sure that any moment that arrow was going to be loosed. Surprisingly enough, when I looked back at the two of them, Legolas was lowering his bow.

"Forgive me. We are not fond of _Dwarves_ where I am from." Justin furrowed his brow, looking confused, and opened his mouth to say something else. Luckily I caught his eye and shook my head, trying to give him a "just let it go" look. He frowned at me, but let the matter drop. Crisis averted. Thank goodness.

All of a sudden, a flash of something that looked like recognition crossed Justin's face and he smiled at Legolas. I watched nervously.

"Wait. You're _Legolas_." He made archery motions with his hand. "You're that awesome archer."

Legolas didn't answer. He blinked twice at Justin. If those blinks could talk they would be saying, "Of course I'm an archer. I just had an arrow pointed at your neck, you idiot." However, Legolas remained silent. Justin did not.

"That was _so cool_ how you rapid fired at all those orcs. And then you shot the two arrows at once." His eyes got wide like a kid on Christmas. "Hey, do you think you could teach me how to do that?"

"That I could," Legolas said. "I could demonstrate to that tree as well and we shall see who the makes the quicker study."

Justin frowned and I think he realized that he was just kind of insulted, but he didn't have a chance to react. I had already picked up on the dry wit and clapped my hands excitedly.

"He's _book_ Legolas, Justin! _Book_ Legolas!" I grinned and bounced.

"He's _what_?" There was that you're-so-weird look again.

"Hang on." I turned to Legolas who was giving me a look that frighteningly resembled Justin's. "How many knives do you have?" He frowned at me. "Knives! Knives!" I made a motion like I was swinging a knife around in battle. Well, I made a motion like I supposed you would swing a knife in battle, since I had no actual knife-fighting experience. It was good enough for him to understand.

"I need but one."

"HA!" I shouted, causing him to jump back with a startled expression on his face. I jumped around to face Justin. "He's book Legolas." I began to do my happy dance, singsonging, "He's book Legolaaaaaaaas. He's book Legolaaaaaaaas." Over and over.

Now, for those of you who are wondering what the happy dance is, I will try my best to explain. First, I jump from one foot to the other and back, in a skip-like way. This is done in a manner where the knees always come up to at least the hip. While all this skip-hopping is going on, I am rotating around my own axis at the rate of about one rotation per three skips. In the meantime, I am also orbiting around my husband at the rate of about one circle every five rotations (or one orbit every fifteen skips).

It's quite aerobic.

It's also quite a site for the uninitiated. Poor Legolas had no idea what was going on. He turned helplessly to my husband.

"I'm _book_ Legolas?" he asked in a small frightened tone that no Elven warrior should ever have to use.

"I have no idea, dude." Justin said sympathetically, shaking his head slowly.

In a complete change of mood, Legolas clapped Justin on the back with a smile. "Then, perhaps in the time it takes to figure her out, I shall indeed teach you to shoot two arrows at once."

The happy dance abruptly stopped and I stood watching as my Elven lust object and my husband walked down the path together to go play with arrows.

* * *

To say I was upset would be the understatement of the year. This was so unfair. _I_ wanted to come to Middle Earth. Legolas was supposed to be giving archery lessons to _me_. How did this happen? How did this get so screwed up?

I wandered around the gardens of Rivendell until I found a tree suitable for my need. I sat down at the base and curled my knees in to my chest, leaning my head back against the trunk. I had just about got a good sulk going when I heard a smoothly sensuous voice from down the path.

"There you are, Arandil."

I jumped up and looked around eagerly. If the body was anything like the voice I was in for a real treat. I was not disappointed. Up walked an Elf, for he had the bright eyes and chiseled features of the Eldar, who looked more like a man than I had expected any Elf to look. His long raven hair fell over broad muscular shoulders and his grey eyes bored right into me. He was wearing a simple tunic and pants, but they accentuated his body so well, I couldn't help but stare.

Now, Legolas had a nice body, almost feline in its movement and shape. But where Legolas was built like a lean strong willow branch, this Elf was broad and muscled. Wait. Did I say that already? Well, I'm sorry, but you had to have _seen_ this guy. Wow.

Anyway, I tried to get my inner fangurl to stop drooling long enough for me to put together a coherent sentence. I wondered what I could say with my pulse so raised and my face so flushed that would not sound completely silly. For a few minutes all I could do was smile up at the breathtakingly handsome face and resist the urge to reach out and touch him. There was only one person this could be. Well, one of two people. I was looking at one of the sons of Elrond.

Finally I managed a response to his initial statement. "Yes." Brilliant, I know. I did manage to smile with my mouth shut though.

"I sent my daughter looking for you, but you were not in your room. I'm glad to have found you."

I blinked. I blinked again. I didn't recall Elladan or Elrohir having a daughter. "Your daughter?" I questioned.

"Arwen did speak to you before, did she not?" My eyes grew wide and if I thought my heart was beating fast before, it was nothing compared to what it was doing now. Arwen absolutely could not be his daughter because this fine specimen of Peredhil in front of me could _not_ be Elrond. Elrond was old; he was not this drop dead gorgeous stud of a man in front of me. I supposed I realized that Legolas was also old, but relatively, in Elven terms, Elrond was _very_ old.

"Arwen is your daughter?" It was dazzling conversation to be sure. "No!" My mind protested along with my voice. "You're not _Elrond_."

He bowed respectfully. "I am. And there is much I would like to speak with you about."

I was a torn woman. Part of me was transfixed by the amazing good looks of the man standing in front of me. The other part was horrified that my heart was getting so fluttery over Lord Elrond. There was seriously something wrong with me.

"Are you sure you're Elrond?" I asked, smiling shyly at him.

He smiled back at me and I thought I might faint. From the smile or from the shock of the whole situation I didn't know which. "Quite sure." He answered.

"But you're so _young_." In reality, _I_ was so young, probably nothing more than a child to him, but he looked no older than I did. "And you're not wearing robes!" I knew there was something else that was a bit off about the whole thing.

"Why would I wear robes when walking in the gardens?" he asked simply. "And as for my age, I assure you, I have seen more lives of men pass than you can possibly fathom."

"Very well," I finally conceded. "Lead the way and we shall go talk." I pushed all the dirty thoughts out of my head, thoroughly berating myself for thinking those things about the Lord of Imladris. It was one thing to lust after his sons, but this was wholly different.

He extended his arm to me and I slipped mine through his. We walked through Rivendell towards the buildings and all thoughts of Justin and that other wood-elf guy were forgotten.


	3. Archery Practice

I walked through the gardens with the yummy Lord of Imladris in silence for a while, partly because I couldn't think of anything to say, partly because my heart was beating so rapidly, but mostly because I was trying _so very hard_ not to be lusting over Elrond. I mean come on. Elrond?

We reached a gazebo-looking structure, which was so much more beautiful and elaborate than any gazebo I had ever seen, and Elrond indicated that I take a seat on one of the benches. I hesitated at first, hoping he would take the lead and sit so that I could perch myself scandalously close to him. He did not and I belatedly realized he was being a gentleman and was waiting for me.

I sat on one of the benches. He sat across from me. I felt a pang of disappointment and then reminded myself who this was. _Elrond is not hot. Elrond is old._ It wasn't working. Elrond was hot.

"It is a dangerous time in which you have found yourself in our fair valley."

_Mmm_ _. Dangerous. Mmm. Fair. Mmm. Snap out of it, Arandil!_

"Ok." In my defense, there _was_ a small part of my brain trying desperately to reel in the fangurl and speak intelligently with _Lord_ Elrond. If you had asked me prior to that day what my conversation with Elrond would be like, I would have expressed my desire to talk to him about lore, language, history, culture and the like. Not in a million years would I have said, 'I wouldn't be able to talk to him. I would be too distracted by his unfathomable good looks.' Yeah. But that was the case now, wasn't it?

Thankfully he did not notice my current state. Either that or he was gracious enough to pretend to ignore it. Either way, he continued as if it wasn't a drooling puddle of fangurl sitting across from him.

"Coincidences are few and far between. There is a purpose for your being here, even if it is not immediately apparent." Sure there is. Oh, you mean a purpose other than chasing after elves and mucking around with your history? Well, in that case, maybe not.

Elrond came over to where I was and knelt down in front of me, taking my hands in his. I hoped fervently he didn't notice my palms were sweaty, something that only happened when I was nervous. "If there is anything you can recall about the events leading up to your being discovered on our borders, anything at all, it may prove to be useful information."

Anything I can recall? I remember finding that original edition Lord of the Rings book in my grandparent's attic. I seem to recollect a piece of parchment with something written in Tengwar written on it, folded in the middle of the book. I can't forget the hours I spent on the internet trying to translate the Quenya words, or the excitement I felt when I figured out what they said could get me here. Was I going to tell any of this to Lord Elrond? Oh, hell no.

"I'm sorry, Lord Elrond." I batted my eyes at him; just because. "Everything prior to waking up here is a blank."

Suddenly, Elrond did look old; and tired. He stood up slowly and extended his hand to help me up. "Perhaps the man that was with you may be able to provide us with some information. There are strange folk about and it would do well for us to know the reasons people suddenly appear in our valley."

I felt hurt. Was Elrond calling _me_ strange folk? _Me_?

He smiled slightly at me as if he could sense my upset. "Do not worry, we do not mistrust you, or your companion. But you may hold a key to events that are occurring."

Doubtful. But who am I to disagree with a gorgeous Elf?

"Of course, Lord Elrond." Is it bad that I was starting to find calling him 'Lord Elrond' remarkably exciting? "If I remember anything I will be sure to tell you." _If only as an excuse to see you again_.

* * *

After my conversation with Lord Elrond _(shiver)_ , I decided to head to my room. Nothing was going as planned. Justin was off male bonding with my favorite Mirkwood prince and my first interaction with Elrond was high-schoolish at best. I was supposed to be drooling over his _sons_ , not _him_. I was supposed to be _learning_ from him; finding out interesting tidbits of information about Arda. But no, instead I was contemplating whether or not LaCE really did apply to Elves whose spouses sailed West. Oh, the evils of the Peredhel; all the right parts of Elves and Men in one spectacular body.

So at any rate, before I ran into anybody else that I might know and inadvertently lust over, I went back to the room. Justin was not there, which only served to add to my irritation. I'm not quite sure why I was so aggravated, except that I'm a control freak and don't like it when things don't go as planned. But aside from that, there could have been worse things than me finding Elrond attractive, right?

Of course there could; such as Justin and Legolas coming in, laughing together as if they had been best buddies forever. Men. Give them some weapons to play with together and they're instant friends.

Justin saw me and came running over excitedly. "Guess what we did!" I was so not in the mood. I glared at him and sighed, but he didn't notice, so caught up in his fantastically stimulating news. "We hid in the trees, and these Dwarves walked by, and they had these stupid hoodie things on, and Legolas," he waved his arm back at the Elf who was standing in the doorway, chuckling at Justin's retelling, "shot the hood right off one of their heads into a tree behind them."

I raised my eyebrows at Legolas. "Oh, that's wonderful for diplomatic relations." He stopped laughing, his smile replaced by a neutral expression, but I could see his eyes still dancing. Well, I suppose I'd be laughing too if I hadn't started out in such a foul mood. I turned back to Justin as he continued his tale.

" _Anyway_ , the Dwarves were looking around and you could tell they were pissed off. So Legolas shot another one's hood off. The Dwarves were _so_ mad, they started running around kicking the trees, shouting in some other language."

"They believed my king to be the culprit and were cursing his name," Legolas explained with a hint of a smile.

"Oh, that's terrific!" I said, but began to smile as well. What I was picturing was just too funny not to laugh at. "So what happened next?" I saw Legolas glance at Justin and turned to see Justin looking down at the floor.

"I started laughing and fell out of the tree." I gasped.

"Do not be concerned," Legolas laughed. "The one called Gimli cushioned his fall."

"Oh my Gawd!" I covered my open mouth with my hands and began giggling foolishly. "You fell on _Gimli_! Oh that is _too funny!_ How pissed was he?"

"Don't know." Justin shrugged. "We ran like hell after that and didn't stop til we got back here."

I heard a throat clear and swung around to face the doorway. There, standing behind and slightly to the left of Legolas, was Elrond. It would have been a beautiful picture had I not been so worried about what the Lord of Imladris was going to say about the Dwarf-shooting incident. Much to my surprise, he curled half his mouth up in a smile.

"At least now I know that it was not an orc attack as I was led to believe by our other _guests_."

"Orcs rarely have aim enough to shoot clothing off targets so low to the ground." Legolas threw back over his shoulder without turning.

"No," Elrond peered around to look him in the eye. "I might have known it was one of Thranduil's archers who was so inclined."

Legolas's only response was a raised eyebrow directed at Elrond. He walked over then to Justin, "It was a pleasure teaching you the finer points of archery." He glanced out the corner of his eye at Elrond, but his words did not elicit any response. Looking back to Justin, he continued, his eyes twinkling mischievously, "Perhaps you might join me again tomorrow for more practice?"

Justin looked quickly at Elrond and then back to Legolas. "Sure. Sounds like fun."

Legolas smiled and turned to me. "Good day, Arandil." He gave me a quick nod of his head. "Until we meet again." With that, he walked out of the room without a word to Elrond.

Elrond stood where he was without moving for several minutes, and Justin and I just watched him. Finally he smiled tiredly at us. "I shall send your dinner when it is time. Good day to you both." He too left, leaving Justin and me alone in the room. With a smile, I turned to my husband.

"Fell out of a tree, huh?"


	4. Some Enchanted Evening

I lay beneath the stars in one of the secluded gardens of Rivendell, a thin blanket protecting my bare skin from the cool late October breeze. The soft grass tickled my back as I rolled over to face my companion. My breathing was still heavy and my heart was still racing, and I could tell by one look at him that he was also still feeling the after effects of what we had just done. He reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from my face. I managed to tear my eyes from his perfectly chiseled bare chest and meet his glance.

"You are so beautiful, out here in the starlight."

"Oh, stop." I giggled. "You're just saying that…"

"No, I speak the truth. You are more beautiful than any elf or woman I have ever met."

I blushed and dropped my eyes from his gaze. "Thank you," I answered demurely.

"Whatever happens from here on will pale in comparison to this night I have spent with you. You are absolutely amazing." He propped himself up on one elbow so he could look down at me and gently cupped my face with his long hand. "I shall take you back to Mirkwood and declare my love for you openly to my father. I will make you my wife. You will be Princess of Mirkwood."

"Oh, Legolas," I whispered as I reached up to run my hands through his soft hair. "I can't believe this. It is a dream come true!"

"I love you, Arandil. You are my everything." Chills!

"I love you too, Legolas." I murmered.

"What did you just say?" he asked, his voice taking on an angry, demanding edge.

"I said, I love you." I blinked a few times to clear the haze away from my eyes. What was happening? It had been going so perfectly!

"What did you just call me?" Why did he suddenly sound so much like Justin? And why was everything so fuzzy looking?

The stars began to dim and the trees started to fade. In their place appeared columns and a ceiling. Instead of Legolas looking adoringly into my eyes, I found myself locked in the angry stare of my husband.

"Dammit, Justin." I swore as I pushed him away from looming on top of me. "I was having the best dream."

"Keh." He sat up in bed and folded his arms across his chest. "I'll bet."

"Oh, come on," I pleaded as I sat up next to him, "don't be angry. It's not like it was real. It's not like anything would ever happen."

"That's true," he conceded. "He would never look at you like that."

Now that stung. "And why not?" I stood up and faced him. "What? Do you think I'm not pretty enough for him?"

"That's not what I said." Justin answered in an even tone.

"Oh, you didn't have to _say_ it. That's what you meant. He would never think _I_ was pretty. I get it Justin." I felt tears well up in my eyes and bit my lip to keep them from falling.

"That is not true. Actually, if you have to know, he told me before that you were pretty." The tears that had been threatening to fall vanished and my insides began to dance. Before I could get too happy though, Justin held up his hand. "But there's something different about him, Karri! I don't know. There's just something _off_ about him."

"Oh, don't even start with the whole gay thing…"

Justin shook his head disgustedly. "That's not what I'm talking about, and you know it. I mean, he looks like us, but he's _not_ like us. I can't put my finger on it."

I rolled my eyes. "He's an Elf, Einstein. Of course he's not like us."

Suddenly Justin jumped up from the bed and began to pace the room, ranting as he went. "This is all so retarded. We shouldn't be here! Come on! Elves are not real. These people are not normal!"

"You didn't seem to mind before when the two of you were all buddy-buddy shooting Gimli's hood off."

Justin stopped and turned to me. "Don't get me wrong, he's a cool guy. He's just… I just… we should. Not. Be. Here."

I sighed and grabbed Justin's arm, pulling him back to the bed. I sat down and waited for him to follow my lead. When it was apparent he was not going to, I stood back up.

"Don't you believe in fate?"

"No." He said flatly.

I rolled my eyes again. Typical Justin. "Well I do, and that's why I think we're here."

"That's bullshit." He leaned on the dresser with one arm and put the other hand on his hip. "We are here because you wanted to 'touch pretty elves'.

I took a deep breath and pleaded with my patience to not run off just yet. "Maybe. But my means of getting us here was in place long before I even knew what an Elf was." I sat down again and indicated that Justin should do the same. This time he did sit down and I took his hands in mine. I was going to need a firm hold on him to keep him there while I told him of how we came to be in Rivendell.

* * *

The best thing to do was wait it out. The yelling would have to come to an end at some point. With it, the storming around, angry glares and occasional hand colliding with a wall would also cease. Sooner would be better than later, but I didn't think this tirade was going to be a short one.

Finally, after he had probably exhausted himself and most likely bruised the palm of his hand, Justin turned to me. "So let me get this straight," he began, holding his hands out in front of him as if they would help to ground him or calm him down. "you read an incantation in a _fake_ language from a _fiction_ book that you found in your grandparents attic, and now we're here."

"Yeah, that's pretty much the gist." Minus the hours of hard work I spent learning the language and deciphering the incantation, but bygones, right?

"So you _knew_ you'd end up here." If anybody thinks an Elvish stare is intense, you haven't met my husband when he's mad. He'd put a Noldo to shame.

"I didn't _know_ …" I smiled at him, hoping he would calm down and appreciate the great opportunity laid ahead of us. Ha. Yeah right. "I _suspected_ …" I think the correct word would have been 'hoped,' but that would probably have just added fuel to the fire.

"And you did it anyway?" I saw him clenching his teeth and knew how frustrated he must be. "Think, Karri, _then_ act."

"My name is not Karri. It's Arandil."

"YOUR NAME IS NOT ARANDIL." I could seriously hate him when he bellowed like that. I think he realized that because he lowered his voice. "Look, I don't know what kind of little fantasy game you're playing here, but I would appreciate it if we could go home now."

"Fine." I snipped at him. "You can go wherever the hell you want. Me? I'm going to find Legolas. But don't you worry," I sneered at him. "even though he thinks I'm pretty, he could never look at me like that."

Exhibiting extraordinary maturity, I turned and huffed out of the room.


	5. From the Ashes a Fire Has Been Woken

I am not a stupid person. Really, I'm not. But sometimes, usually in the midst of a strong emotion like anger, I do stupid things; such as storm out into the cold October night, wearing nothing but a thin pair of pajama pants and a tank top. I didn't even have anything on my feet.

Yes, I said pajama pants. Yes, we're still in Rivendell. Ok, look, if you can _see_ the plot hole, _walk around it_. Seriously, it will close up in a little while. Trust me. I've created enough of them in my time to know.

Anyway, the cold did nothing to dispel my anger. It's really hard to forgive someone when you're standing in the freezing cold and blaming them for it. I hugged myself to try and stay warm and stubbornly decided that I was not going back to my room until Justin came to find me. No, I'm not a stupid person, but like I said, sometimes I make stupid choices.

I was just about to reconsider, since I could no longer feel my toes and I could barely stand I was shaking so hard, when I felt someone place a blanket over my shoulders. I knew it was Justin, and although I was thankful he had come so I could get out of the cold, I wasn't about to forgive him so easily. When I turned around, to my surprise, it was not Justin who stood there, but the Elf who had caused our argument in the first place.

I didn't know what to say at first, feeling a little awkward about facing this guy, outside in the middle of the night. Luckily for me, he spoke first.

"You ought to go inside. The night has grown chill." I answered him with a shiver, proving his point. He rubbed his hands up and down my arms in an apparent effort to warm me up. It sent chills down my spine that had nothing to do with the temperature, but when I looked up at him, his expression was completely innocent. This was merely a friendly gesture. It only lasted a few moments, though, before we heard a threatening voice coming from the trees nearby.

"Remove your hands from my wife, _Avari_."

Two words jumped out at me. 'wife' and 'Avari.' My brain whirled into overdrive trying to reconcile that command. There was only one person who could call me his wife. And yet, he would never use the word Avari. He wouldn't even know what the word Avari meant.

Out of the trees stepped an Elf, for he could only be an Elf. He was far more fey than any of the other Elves I had met so far, or even seen around Rivendell. His eyes were brighter than Legolas's, and he seemed almost mystical, for lack of a better word.

At a quick glance, if you didn't know better, you might mistake Elrond for a Man. You may even mistake Legolas, if he was at a good distance and wasn't looking at you. Nobody in their right mind could ever make the mistake to think this creature in front of us was a Man.

Legolas slowly backed away from me, looking at the newcomer warily, as one might view a wild animal – a _dangerous_ wild animal who, for some reason, just mistakenly called Legolas a dark elf.

"Who are you?" I asked, feigning a bravery I did not feel. The Elf's eyes widened and he regarded me with either anger or shock, I couldn't tell. I fought hard not to drop his gaze, fearing he would see me as weak, and then who knew what would happen. His expression changed to one that almost resembled tenderness; if tenderness could have that hard an edge to it.

"Have I changed so much that you no longer recognize my face?" He advanced towards me and it took everything I had not to back away. I felt Legolas step behind me and place protective hands on my shoulders. The Elf narrowed his eyes and looked over my shoulder. "You dare touch her again, half-breed?"

I turned my head to see if Legolas had been replaced by Elrond or one of his sons, which to me would have been the only explanation for that last insult. No, Legolas still stood behind me, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed. Half breed? I looked back at the Elf who was now in a staring match with Legolas.

"Look, whoever you are," I tried to reason with him. "There's been some mistake. I'm not your wife; there's no need for all this. You obviously think we are someone else." I grinned hopefully, and for a brief second I was delusional enough to believe it would be that easy.

After one final stare at Legolas, he took me into his sight. "I will return for you in three days time." He spoke those words as if it were a certainty; I had no say in the matter. "Until then, if this son of a traitor comes near you again, know that I will kill him."

Before I could even react, somehow Legolas was now in front of me.

"I will bear no more insult from you, stranger." Legolas practically growled at him.

To my immense surprise, the Elf laughed a wild, throaty laugh. I poked my head out from behind Legolas to glimpse what he was up to. "You _are_ one of Thranduil's brood, are you not?" Legolas made no response, but I saw him slowly reaching for his knife. This was turning from bad to worse. "It would have been bad enough had you been fully Telerin."

He shrugged, as if Legolas was no more concern to him and then looked to me. " _Namarie_ _, Nerdanel_." And without anything further, he ran back into the trees from whence he came.

* * *

If I had my full wits about me, even then I would have had a tough time soothing Legolas, who looked ready to kill just about anything in the absence of the strange Elf who had come upon us so suddenly and departed just as unexpectedly. As it was, my full wits were nowhere around.

"Did you hear what he called me?" I practically shouted at the Mirkwood Elf.

"I shall avenge us both." With a determined set to his jaw he made to follow the other Elf into the woods.

"No, Legolas!" I cried. "I don't need to be _avenged_." When he looked at me, his features were a perfect calm, but in his eyes I could see anger boiling just beneath the surface. Well, at least he stopped walking. "He called me 'wife' and then he called me ' _Nerdanel_ '."

"Calling you his wife is insult enough for me to avenge."

"No, I don't think you _get it_. Don't you know whose wife Nerdanel was?"

In a fluid motion Legolas's knife was in his hand and he cocked an eyebrow at me. "It is of no particular importance to me at the moment."

"It _should_ be of importance to you." I yelled. Legolas pressed his lips into a thin line and with one final dismissive wave turned and began to walk towards the forest. I had no choice. I blurted it out.

"Nerdanel was Fëanor's wife."

Legolas stopped walking and I saw his back stiffen. Slowly he turned to face me. In his eyes I saw confusion mix with the anger that was already there.

"We must seek Lord Elrond's counsel."

* * *

I followed Legolas up to one of the main buildings, through a few halls until we stopped in front of a large wooden door. Finding it strange that this door was closed when all the rest were wide open, I turned to look at Legolas.

"Lord Elrond's private study." he explained. "The door is shut. Lord Elrond must be inside." He turned to walk away. Panicked that he was leaving me, and that he was going in search of the Elf who thought he was Fëanor, I reached out and grabbed the back of his tunic.

"Wait!" He gave me an incredulous look. I suppose not many people have the nerve to pull on the clothing of Mirkwood's prince. "You're leaving me here? Alone? After who we just saw?"

He gave me a grave look. "I need not involve my realm in the concerns of Imladris." A corner of his perfect mouth curled into a smile, probably meant to comfort me. "I will be nearby should you need me." With that he left and I turned my attention back to the door.

I stood in place, trying to work up the courage to knock. Before I found my nerve, the door opened and I was almost run down by a very agitated looking Elrond. He caught himself before he slammed into me.

"Arandil, I was just coming to seek you out." He stepped aside and motioned for me to enter the room. I looked around. It was a small study, compared to the other rooms I had seen, with a large curtain covering what I assumed to be a window on the one wall. The other three walls were lined with books, and in the center of the room were a table and several chairs. I did not have a chance to admire the two scrumptious identical elves sitting on the window side of the table because sitting on the other side, looking quite harassed, was Justin.

All thoughts of why I had sought out Lord Elrond temporarily vanished. "Justin! What's going on?" The question was half directed at him and half at the elves in the room.

"I see you've been untruthful to her about your identity as well." I looked at the elf who spoke with narrowed eyes. At this point in time, it did not matter to me that he had the most perfectly sculpted face I had seen since I had looked at his father; or his twin for that matter. All that mattered was that he was harassing my husband. That was _my_ job, and I didn't take well to others stepping into my territory.

"I suggest you support your accusations, _Elf_ , or I will have no choice but to…" to what? What could I possibly threaten an elf with? I will bat my eyes at you and due to my self-insertedness, cause you to lose all reason and fall madly in love with me?

Apparently, whichever twin it was I had addressed realized it was an empty threat as well. He stood up and took a step towards me. "Or you will do what, exactly, _Engwar_?"

"Did you just call me _Tengwar_?" I asked loudly, putting my hands on my hips.

Elrond moved so he was standing between the two of us. "Peace, Elladan. That was not necessary." Elladan bristled, but sat back down, frowning. Elrond turned to me and looked like he was going to continue speaking but I, at that moment, chose to ignore him. Instead I continued to address his rather _rude_ son.

"What is that?" I demanded. "Some kind of Elvish insult to call someone 'letter'." I faced Justin. "Hey, you, you're such a _letter_!" I said, mocking Elladan.

The half-elf slammed his hands on the table and moved to stand up again when Elrond held his hand out towards his son. "Elladan, Elrohir, why don't you go find our esteemed guest from Mirkwood. Make sure Thranduilion isn't eavesdropping again."

Elladan continued to glare at me, but the other one, Elrohir, stood up and excitedly addressed his father. "If he is, can we hide his bow in the Dwarves' room?"

Suddenly the door flew open and an angry Legolas stormed in. "You will do no such thing!"

With Elladan still glaring at me, Elrohir smiled at his father. "Mission accomplished." His grin widened. "Now we can remain here."

Elrond, looking extraordinarily tired, turned to his other son. "Elladan, please come with me." He turned then to Legolas, "I trust you can find your way back to your chambers, Legolas." The way he said it was a statement and Legolas, after a final glare at Elrohir, exited the room. Elrond followed, his agitated son in tow. As he was stepping through the doorway, he turned to Elrohir. "Please stand outside the door and make sure these two are not disturbed while I am gone."

Elrohir furrowed his brow, looked at me and shrugged. He got up, walked toward the door and with one last glare at Justin, closed the door behind him. After taking a few deep breaths to get my bearings and sooth my nerves, I looked at Justin.

"What is going on?"

He smiled nervously, in that way he did when he knew he was at fault, and in trouble. What could he have possibly done?

"I decided to play along."

I didn't understand. "Play along?"

He took my hands. "If this is important to you, I'll play along. So, since you gave what I can only assume is an Elf name as your own, I decided to use an Elf name too."

I bit back a laugh. What kind of insulting name could he have come up with? He didn't know any Elvish; this should be interesting.

"So what happened?"

"I ran into an Elf, who turned out to be one of Elrond's sons. He asked my name. I could only think of two Elf names. One was Legolas, and he's here so I couldn't use that one."

I felt the pit of my stomach clench. The only way Justin would know any Elf's name was from the movies, or because I went on about them. Who did I go on about? Legolas… Thranduil…

"Uh oh."

"Uh oh what?" Now Justin looked really worried.

I bit my lip. "Please say you told them your name was Thranduil." From the look of non-recognition on Justin's face I knew the answer before he gave it.

"I told them my name was Fëanor."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some translations:
> 
> Avari: 'The Unwilling'; those of the Elves who refused the summons of the Valar to dwell in Valinor, and remained in the dark wilds of Middle-earth.
> 
> Teleri: The third and greatest of the three Elf-kindreds of the Great Journey, from whom the Nandor and the Sindar were descended.
> 
> Namarie: goodbye (Quenya)
> 
> Engwar: 'The Sickly', a name used by the Elves to describe Men.
> 
> Tengwar: The characters devised by Fëanor, originally to represent the sounds of the Quenya language, but later widely adopted for writing most of the languages of Middle-earth.
> 
> If you do not know who Fëanor or Nerdanel are, you have two choices. 1) You can read the Silmarillion, which is an altogether fascinating book if you're into Elves and their history or 2) You can wait for the next chapter when I will use Justin as a blatantly obvious plot device for my exposition. (Oh look, Justin doesn't know who Fëanor and Nerdanel are – Arandil has to explain.) You know, writing without a beta, although it makes my story suck, is very liberating at times.


	6. The Myth of Fëanor

I could not stop laughing. Why did I laugh? I laughed because I was in Middle Earth with my husband. I laughed at Elrond's study around us. I laughed at the fact that my husband told the twin sons of Elrond that he was the most infamous Elf in all of the history of Arda. Was I hysterical? Possibly, but I did not care.

No, I did not care. I laughed.

Now, let me tell you about my laugh. My husband says it is endearing. Others have called it infectious. But no matter what word you use to describe its nature, the fact of the matter is, it is _loud_. And loud to me must be deafening to an Elf.

Elrohir threw open the door, a puzzled look on his fair face. "What are you _doing_ to her?" he asked Justin with an accusing tone to his voice.

Justin threw up his hands. "I told her that I told you guys my name was Fëanor and she just started laughing."

"That is a laugh?" Elrohir asked skeptically, watching me with what appeared to be hesitant interest. After a short while he started to chuckle as well, a light merry sound in contrast to my rowdy giggles.

"I can not see what you find amusing, brother." Hearing Elladan's sullen voice in the doorway, I immediately reigned in my happy emotions and, wiping tears from my eyes, fixed him with an angry glare. Elrohir walked calmly over to him and grasped his shoulder.

"Peace, brother." He leaned out the open door and looked around. With a furrowed brow he turned back to Elladan. "Where is father?"

Elladan didn't answer, but walked over and sat down across from Justin and me. "I realize now you are not who you said. I apologize if we treated you harshly." He folded his arms across his chest and looked at Elrohir.

When it was evident he would say no more, Elrohir walked over and sat down next to him. "I do not understand."

Elladan looked at me for the first time since he entered the room. He then glanced at Justin before speaking to his brother in Elvish. The only words I could catch were ' _ada_ ,' 'Legolas,' and ' _dagor_.' I didn't have to understand the rest. I easily put the pieces together.

Without thinking, I reached across the table and grabbed Elladan's arm, "Your father is fighting Legolas!" I let go of him and jumped up, heading towards the door. "That's not good! We have to stop them!" Suddenly there was a strong hand gripping my arm and I felt the sensation of spinning. Before I knew what had happened, I was eye to eye with the peredhel. And what lovely eyes they were, even if I did not like the way they were practically shooting daggers at me.

I expected a reprimand; or a snide comment. The irrepressible lusting fangurl inside me fully expected him to wrap both his arms around me and kiss me fiercely. Neither of us expected him to just stand there mutely.

"He does not know what to make of you, I think." Elrohir laughed from his place at the table. "Come, brother." he added soothingly, still making no move to rise. "She must know some of our noble tongue; enough to misunderstand what you said."

Elladan looked back at his brother but did not let go of my arm. I looked over at Justin. His face was a mixture of fear and confusion. Poor guy. He really had no idea what was going on. Although, in all honestly, _I_ didn't know what was going on either, since Elrond and Legolas were apparently _not_ fighting.

Elladan turned back to face me and I gave him the sweetest fake smile I could manage. "You can let go of my arm now."

With an expression I would have interpreted as embarrassment on anyone else, Elladan dropped my arm and took a step backwards.

"Can someone _please_ explain to me what is going on?" Justin's outburst had saved Elladan from the scathing remark I was trying to come up with.

Elrohir smiled patiently at Justin. "My brother sometimes has a temper."

"I don't care about your _brother_." Justin said. I wished I had told him before all this not to be so snippy with Elves who also happened to be seasoned warriors. "I want to know who Fëanor is, why you got so pissed that I said I was him and what the hell you just said."

"Fëanor is a myth." All eyes turned toward the door where Legolas stood. "He is a story told to young elflings to scare them into behaving." It might have been convincing if his voice did not betray his own doubt. "He is not real."

"He _is_ real." I insisted.

"None of you are real." Justin muttered under his breath at the same time.

I hoped nobody heard Justin and continued as if I hadn't. "We just _saw_ him, Legolas." Turning to Justin, I tried to answer his first question, "Fëanor lived thousands of years before this. He died in the first year of the first age. This is the very end of the third age."

"So if he's dead, why…? How…?"

"An interesting question." Elrond joined the Mirkwood Elf in the doorway. "And one I have pondered since Legolas told me of his presence here. Shall we all take a seat? There is much that needs to be discussed."

* * *

It took a little while for Elrond to convince Legolas that Fëanor had indeed lived, and to sort out which of the stories were true. No, Fëanor did not eat little elflings. Yes, he was involved in the kinslaying. Yes, he did burst into flames as he died. No, he _did not eat little elflings_.

While they were sitting with Elrohir at one end of the table getting that all sorted out, I sat at the other, trying to catch Justin up on seven thousand plus years of Middle Earth history. Why couldn't I have married someone with an appreciation for good literature? This would have all been so much easier had he read the Silmarillion.

I was pretty sure he wanted the short _short_ version of who Fëanor was and why he was so bad. So, accepting the fact that he would never have a true appreciation for the history of the world we were visiting, I tried to sum up Fëanor's story in a few short sentences.

"Fëanor made the Silmarils, these amazing jewels that captured the light of the two trees of Valinor." There was that blank look again. "Ok, never mind about the two trees. The Silmarils were really incredible, ok? Then Morgoth, the first Dark Lord, killed Fëanor's father and stole the Silmarils. So, Fëanor swore an oath to get back at Morgoth, made his sons, his half brother and some of his nephews swear the oath, and went to sail back to Middle Earth to chase after Morgoth. He needed to borrow the ships of the Telerin Elves, who I believe Legolas is descended from, but they wouldn't let him, so he killed them and took their boats."

I heard a distinct snort from Elladan, who had apparently found our conversation more interesting to listen to than his father's. I pursed my lips and narrowed my eyes at him. "What? You think you could tell it better?"

"I would tell the true story." He turned in his seat so he was completely facing us and leaned forward, placing his arms on the table. "That is _not_ what happened."

His words came as a surprise and they made me doubt myself. Had I remembered incorrectly? Was that not what I read? Slightly hesitant to question an Elf on the history of Middle Earth, I nervously rubbed my palms on my lap. "Are you sure?"

"You failed to mention the part where Fëanor attacked my Grandmother, demanding a lock of her hair, and nearly killed her when she refused. You left out the part where he forced her brothers to slay their own kindred. You…"

"Ok, _ok_!" I held out my hands in a gesture of surrender. "I get the picture." I turned to Justin. "You see; Fëanor was probably the worst name you could have given these two." I waved my hand in the direction of the twins.

"Oh." Justin said quietly, and then frowned as if he were thinking. "This happened thousands of years ago, right?"

"Yes." I looked at Elladan to see if he was going to contradict that too. He was too busy glaring at me to challenge anything.

"So, how was his Grandmother involved?" He asked slowly. The conversation on the other side of the table had ceased and all four Elves were watching to see how I would answer. No pressure at all.

"Elves are immortal, remember." I answered and then quickly glanced around the room. It was weird talking about Elves in front of a bunch of them. "They can live a long time." Just then, someone knocked on the door and it swung open to reveal an elf with brilliantly shining golden hair.

"Glorfindel, enter; join us." said Elrond.

I watched the legendary balrog-slayer in awe as he spoke. "Nay, Lord Elrond; I merely bring a message to you. The Halfling has awoken. Gandalf bids you come as soon as you are able."

Elrond rose, as did his sons and Legolas. I stood up and motioned to Justin to do the same.

"Forgive me," Elrond said. "I must leave now, but you are free to continue the conversation." He turned to Glorfindel. "This is indeed good news." he said as he walked towards the door.

Justin leaned towards me, picked his foot up, stuffed it in his mouth and whispered. "Frodo is here, now?" Note to self: another thing I should have told the husband before was that Elves have super sensitive hearing.

Elrond froze. Glorfindel's eyes widened in a shocked expression. Elladan continued to glare. (I was beginning to wonder if he was capable of any other facial expression.) Elrohir exhaled in a barely audible gasp. The only one who didn't have any sort of reaction was Legolas. He was also probably the only one who didn't know who Frodo was at this point.

As Elrond slowly turned back around to face us, Justin took a step towards me and grabbed my hand. I knew he realized he had, yet again, said something wrong, and had no idea what it was. I squeezed his hand with a reassurance I did not feel.

"How do you know of Frodo?" The harshness to Elrond's voice and the firm set to his jaw would have frightened even the most stoic of men.

Justin looked at me with wide eyes and expression that clearly screamed, "Help!"


	7. The Fair Face of Evil

"You!" I whirled around and faced my husband, pointing a finger in his direction. "You are NOT allowed to talk ANYMORE." I felt a vice like grip on my arm and turned to glare at the elf who had just grabbed me.

"It seems it may not have been mere chance that you appeared on our borders when you did." Elladan pulled me roughly away from Justin and towards his father. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Justin move to get up and hoped fervently he wouldn't do anything rash. "The agents of the enemy appear in many forms." He pushed me forcibly at Elrond and had it not been for Legolas's intervention, I probably would have ended up on the ground. "I suggest we remove them from our lands before they cause any harm."

After that, it seemed everything happened at once. Justin came over and started yelling at Elladan as Elrohir tried to step into the middle to keep them away from each other. Glorfindel was trying to take me away from Legolas, who was guarding me as if his life depended on it. (How I garnered such loyalty from the Elf, I have no idea.). Everyone was shouting until a bellow stilled us all.

"SILENCE!" We all turned to Lord Elrond who was fixing us with a stare that would have bored holes in steel. He looked to each of us in turn. "Legolas, I appreciate your help, but I no longer require your assistance. If you are needed, I will be sure to find you in your rooms." Graciously taking the hint that it was his time to depart, Legolas exited the room, but not before giving a glare of his own to Glorfindel and Elladan.

Elrond next turned to his sons. "Elladan, Elrohir, Estel has arrived with the Halfling. I trust you wish to welcome him home?"

Elladan was not as understanding as Legolas had been and crossed the room to resume his grip on my arm. "I trust he can wait if there are more pressing matters." Elrond raised an eyebrow at his son and with an expressive sigh; Elladan released my elbow and sulked out of the room, closely followed by his brother.

"Now, then, Glorfindel, we may go see to Frodo." Elrond said the name with a quick look at me out of the corner of his eyes. "He is sure to have much to ask us."

He turned with Glorfindel to exit, leaving Justin and me there all alone. "Wait!" I shouted after him, without thinking. "What about us?"

Elrond stopped and looked over his shoulder at me. "You are free to return to your rooms, but I suggest you avoid my sons at all costs." He paused a moment, looking thoughtful. "There is much I need to discuss with Gandalf before I can attend to the two of you."

Without another word, Elrond left the room. Poor Justin looked like he just had a lobotomy or something. I watched him, worried as to what might be going through his mind. After a short while, he shook his head and came over to me.

"So now what?" He asked in a tired voice.

"We go back to our room?" I said tentatively.

"Are you having fun?" He asked the question completely honestly. There was no bitterness or anger in his voice. I really think he wanted to know whether or not I was having fun. I stopped and actually thought about it. What had happened since we got here? Legolas was more interested in hanging out with Justin than with me; I started lusting over the last Elf I would have ever expected; we both got threatened and grabbed and roughly treated; and somehow, inexplicably, Feanor showed up. Yeah. I was having a blast.

"Not really." I shrugged. "I thought this would be different. I didn't think there'd be all this drama." I also didn't think my husband would end up there, making my chances of hooking up with any hot elf absolutely nil. But I thought it was better to keep that part to myself.

"So why don't we go home?" I couldn't look at him when his eyes were pleading like that.

"I don't know how." It was an admission that I could only make while looking at the floor.

"What?" I raised my head to see Justin's incredulous look.

"I know. It was stupid. _I_ was stupid. This whole thing was stupid. But we're here now, so why don't we just try to make the best of it."

His face tightened and I could tell that his teeth were clenched. He looked at a point slightly off to the side of me. "Is it possible, then, that we may never get home."

I smiled, trying to ease some of the tension. "Of course not! Think about it. In all the stories, the people _always_ get home if they really want to."

It was never good when his eyes narrowed like that. "Karri," he said in a far too calm and quiet voice. "this is _not a story_. This is our REAL LIFE. There are no guarantees. We could be stuck here. It may not be a happy ending for us."

"We'll be fine…" I soothed.

"No," he said roughly. " _We_ may not."

With that angry sentiment, he left me there and stalked out of the room.

* * *

I found myself back in the gardens of Rivendell, wandering aimlessly, trying desperately hard not to think about anything. Of course, the more you try not to think about things, the more thoughts fly through your head. You could go insane just by trying not to think about your problems.

Anyway, at the forefront of my mind was remorse and self-recrimination. It had been a game to me, really. Did I think those words were going to transport me, and Justin, to a place that deep down in my heart I believed to be fictional? No. If I had truly believed the incantation would work, would I really have done it? No, probably not. I mean, it's a nice fantasy and all, but think about it. We have no life here; we have no family here; we have no home here. If the Elves were to kick us out, where would we go? How long would we last before we ran into an Orc or a Wildman or a stray Nazgûl? Not very long.

So engrossed in my bitter thoughts, I failed to notice the approach of someone, much to my misfortune, until I bumped into something and saw feet on the ground directly in front of me.

Two arms shot out and grabbed my elbows to steady me and I slowly looked up the length of his body until I met the steely eyes of…one of the twins. I still couldn't tell them apart. Not that I wouldn't know shortly; he would either be kind or start yelling, and I'd be able to tell immediately which one he was. I smiled tentatively, a smile that was not returned, and I began to suspect it was Elladan.

"You should be in your rooms." His voice was neutral. Surely if it was Elladan, he would have started shouting by now, or shaking me, since he still held his grip on my arms. Perhaps it was Elrohir. Maybe I should ask.

"I needed some air." I know. I'm a big sissy. What can I say?

Since he didn't immediately respond, I belatedly realized that for one thing, he was still holding my elbows, and for the other, my hands were resting on his forearms. I also realized that this was not an entirely unpleasant position to be in, held by an Elf. Or a Half-Elf, whatever. Especially since I was beginning to think that this was the nicer of the pair of Halfelven.

Unfortunately, my conscious decided to take that moment to point out that this may not be wholly proper, so I gently pulled my arms away to see if he would release them. He did, with no problem. When I saw a hesitant smile play across his lips, I concluded who he was. Maybe he could tell me why his brother had it in for me.

"Your brother doesn't seem to like me much." I measured my words and watched him carefully for a reaction. I know I don't take kindly to people bad mouthing my brother, and we're not even twins. I didn't want to alienate someone who could be a potential ally.

His face showed no marked reaction and his voice remains neutral. "My brother has no quarrel with you." His eyes narrowed suspiciously and I felt my stomach turn in nervousness. "What makes you think that?"

Treading cautiously, for I still wasn't sure of the family dynamic of Elvish twins, I gave him my best didn't-mean-anything-by-that smile. "I just seem to aggravate him, is all."

His eyes remained narrowed, but now he looked confused. "I have yet to see my brother aggravated in your presence."

"Oh, come _on_ …" I started, until a very unpleasant and embarrassing thought occurred to me. "Hang on a second." As I tried to figure out if the question 'Which one are you?' would be considered rude, I saw a glimmer of understanding in his eyes as well. When he started smirking, I began bargaining with the earth to get it to swallow me up.

"You believe me to be Elrohir, do you not?" Haughty Elf.

"You're not, are you?" I asked, biting my lip and knowing full well the answer. Just then, the most random and disturbing thought popped into my head. _If you had known it was Elladan, would you have been so quick to pull away?_

Chastising my mind for such and abhorrent thought, I continued to watch Elladan's face as he stood there mutely, accurately judging that I did not need a response from him to know the answer to my question.

"So," I continued, "you can tell me why _you_ get so aggravated by me." I hugged my arms. "What did I ever do to you?"

"You have done naught to offend me, but there are many strange occurrences as of late." I love it when they talk all forsoothy. "Evil is still evil, though it often wears a fair guise."

I was initially insulted, until the part of me that always wanted to be a psychologist got a hold of the statement.

"So are you saying that I'm evil…?" I paused dramatically, raised my eyebrows and grinned, "Or that you think I'm pretty, and were therefore suspicious of me?"

I thought I was rather clever, and was only half serious, so I was not at all prepared for the stony glare I received in return.

"You have pushed me beyond suspicion."

Had I not found the whole situation ludicrous, I may have reacted differently.

"Butcha think I'm pretty…" I'm not quite sure why I pressed that issue. Maybe I was trying to get a rise out of him again. Maybe I knew if I did he'd grab me again, not that I wanted that. Maybe my ego just wanted to her this gorgeous guy admit he thought I was pretty.

He leaned way in towards me; so that his face was so close to mine I could barely see his harsh glare. "The fairest things are often the ones which destroy us," he said quietly through clenched teeth. He pulled away and warned, "I shall be watching you."

As he walked away I wondered if I should be worried or excited.


	8. Line Between Fantasy and Reality

"Elrond is holding a council."

I listened distractedly to Justin as I gazed out the window, replaying my last conversation with Elladan repeatedly in my head. Probably not the most productive use of my time, I admitted, but far more interesting than hearing my husband recount the events taking place around us as if I had no idea what was happening.

Or what was going to happen, for that matter.

He had stopped speaking, which meant he was waiting for a response from me. Without drawing my gaze from the gardens, I nodded my head.

"Mm hmm. I know." I ran my hands up and down the length of my arms, trying to recreate the feel of other hands. _His_ hands.

"I have been asked to attend."

Now he had my full attention. "You have been _what_?" I crossed the distance between us. "Do you know what this council is _about_?"

He gave me a look as if that were the most absurd question I could have possibly asked. Maybe it was, but in my defense, he _did_ tell the sons of Elrond he was Fëanor, so we were not doing well on the Middle-Earth history stuff so far. " _Yes_ , I know what the council is about. It's about the Fellowship."

I took a deep breath. "Not exactly…"

"Yes it's about the Fellowship. It's about Elrond forming the Fellowship and deciding what to do with the Ring. It's when Frodo says he'll take it."

"Yes…" I hesitated. My mind was reeling with the great and terrible possibilities. I was pretty sure there was no mention of a man with a strange name in the Council of Elrond; one who had appeared mysteriously on the borders of Rivendell with his Quenya-named wife who spoke just enough Elvish to get her into trouble.

"You didn't think I'd know, did you?" He was obviously pleased with himself. I guess he should be. That was the first bit of Middle-Earth fact he had gotten right.

"Well…" I tried to soften the blow. "You're not exactly well-versed on the history of this place."

He shrugged, undaunted by my appraisal of his knowledge. "Obviously Elrond thinks I'm well-versed enough to attend his council, despite the opinions of his psycho son."

_His son_ … I thought back to our last encounter. He was anything but psycho then. Actually, he was rather… I shook my head to knock my thoughts off the path they were taking.

"And according to Elrond, Legolas vouched for me as well."

I was hurt. "Legolas? Vouched for _you_?" I felt the evil green monster nipping at my heels. "But _I'm_ the one who wanted to come here. _I'm_ the one who knows all the history and legend of this place."

"I know. And at least I can come back and tell you what happens, rather than you not finding out, right?" He was trying to soothe me, and it was not working.

"I don't want to know what happens." I felt tears sting my eyes and before he could see them, I stormed out of the room, calling back over my shoulder, "Have fun at your stupid council."

* * *

For anybody who just called me immature, shut up. I'm not immature; you are. No, _you are_ …no givesies backsies.

Ok, fine. When I'm in a strange land, surrounded by strange folk, and having impure thoughts about someone who is not my husband, who is not even human for that matter, I reserve the right to express a little immaturity.

So my immature self ran through the gardens, working up a scenario as I went.

I would run and run until I fell down, sobbing into the ground, my tears turning my eyes a brilliant shade of green. My hair would be blowing in the breeze, the sun reflecting off it bringing out my highlights and making it gleam a brilliant copper color. I would hear footsteps approach and look up, coming eye to eye with the elder of the two sons of Elrond. I would look away, not wanting him to see the tears in my eyes. He would walk over and gently help me to my feet.

"What is the matter, fair maiden?" he would ask softly while stroking a stray lock of my hair away from my face.

At that moment, Legolas would approach my other side, slipping an arm easily around my waist and smiling at me. Both elves would be totally ok with this arrangement.

"Do not cry, my love," Legolas would whisper as he trailed kisses along my cheek. "We shall erase all vestiges of your pain."

There I would remain, basking in the warmth of their love and attention, until Justin found us. He would smile, give us his blessing and say, "do what you will with them, but know that you come home to me."

It would be a beautiful thing.

As reality would have it, none of this came to pass. I did run until I threw myself against the ground, but I managed to gorge my hand on a sharp rock on the way down. An elf did find me there, but it was Glorfindel, who acted very wary towards me as he helped me up and bandaged my hand. He said naught to me but his message from Lord Elrond; that I was to seek him out in his study and if I needed escort, Glorfindel would show me the way.

I could tell Glorfindel was uneasy in my presence, so I set out to find Elrond's study on my own. I had been there before, and I have a pretty good sense of direction. As I wandered through the gardens, I wondered why it was that even in this fantasy land the scenes I came up with in my head were still so much better than the actual reality happening around me.

* * *

I found Elrond's study. I will not get into how long it took me or how many quarters I was going to owe the swear jar, but I found it. Suffice it to say, the sun was preparing herself for yet another brilliant end-of-day display as I waited on the terrace.

I was not alone for long.

I knew it was Elladan as he approached. I could not explain how I knew it was him and not his brother, but I did. I smiled hesitantly, remembering his parting words to me.

"You have indeed been watching me, if you knew to find me here."

"I did not come for you." His voice was flat, expressionless. "I must speak with my father before departing."

His last word stung me unexpectedly. "Departing?" Disappointment coursed through me. "But why? When?"

He gave me an inscrutable look and turned to face the brilliant red and gold of the sunset. "Think you I do naught but lose my temper and chase after edain women who are too cheeky for their own good?" I saw him smile even though he didn't look my way.

"Well," I began, "you never know."

His smile spread across his face and for some reason that made me feel very warm inside. I had the overwhelming urge to touch him until I really looked at him standing there, hands on the railing, back straight as one of Legolas's arrows, chin tilted up towards the sky, dark hair blowing behind him, aglow with all the colors of the sunset, which were also, I noticed, reflected in his eyes. He looked truly magnificent, in the way an ancient tree or a mountain or the ocean looks magnificent.

_But there's something different about him_. I heard Justin's words in my head and realized that although they had been spoken about Legolas, they held true for Elladan as well, for _all_ the elves.

"Thank you," I whispered to him, my voice full of the awe I was feeling.

Suddenly the majesty was gone and he was glaring at me once again. "What?"

I didn't have a chance to answer because the door to Elrond's study was thrown open and I was beckoned inside. I sat down opposite the Lord of Imladris and heard words that I had not expected, but brought joy to my heart nonetheless.

"Arandil, I am holding a Council the day after next and I wish for you to attend."


	9. I Never

I spoke to Elrond for only a few moments. He was anxious to speak to his sons before they set out for wherever it was they were going. He asked after my comfort and if I needed anything. I dropped my eyes and mutely shook my head. I was still not able to have stimulating conversation with him. His looks still blew me away.

After leaving him, I found myself back on to the terrace. Both Elladan and Elrohir were standing there, deep in conversation with each other. As one, they turned when I approached, Elrohir smiling widely and Elladan barely looking my way, affording only a glance in my direction before turning his head to look out over the vista, almost quickly enough to be rude.

They came towards me, since to get in to speak with their father they had to pass me. Right before they reached me, they stopped. Elrohir dug his elbow into his brother's ribs. Elladan glared at him. Elrohir let out an exasperated sigh.

"Arandil, there will be a celebration this evening." Elrohir ended up saying. "Elladan and I are departing before dawn tomorrow, and some of our companions wish to see us off." He gave his brother a fierce look. "We _both_ would like for you to attend."

I looked from him to Elladan and back. _One_ of them wanted me to attend; I will let you guess which.

"I'd be delighted," I answered formally. Elrohir grinned and Elladan shifted his weight, looking annoyed.

"Brilliant. Elladan shall come for you before it begins." Elrohir silenced his brother's protest with an outstretched hand. "Now we must leave you. Until tonight, milady."

He inclined his head towards me as he walked by. Elladan met my eyes as he passed but his expression remained cold. Maybe I had imagined the smile before. Maybe I only saw what I wanted to see.

* * *

To call what occurred that night a "celebration" does not even come close to doing it justice. There was singing. There was dancing. There was much consumption of wine, ale and some other kind of alcoholic beverage I think may have been Miruvor, but since I had never tasted Miruvor before, I had no idea.

I danced with Justin, briefly, since he does not much like dancing. Yeah, we fight like cats and dogs, but we forgive each other quickly as well. I suppose that is for the best, considering…well… _me_.

I danced with Legolas several times; he made me feel like a klutz next to him. Years and years of dance training just cannot compare to elven grace. I danced with Elrohir a few times, which was not as bad. I even danced with some brown haired Mirkwood elf named Tirithel. He looked a little like Legolas except with a slightly broader frame and darker features.

As the night wore on, the guests began to thin. Justin left for bed, claiming he was too tired to carry on any longer. I asked if he wished for me to come with him, but he smiled and kissed my forehead and told me he knew I was much more of a partier than he was and that I could stay. I didn't argue.

Eventually there were nine of us left. (Amazing, huh? What is it about that number?) We sat in a circle around a small fire we had built, passing around a wine skin. On my left were two hobbits; I think Merry was next to me and then Pippin, but I kept mixing them up. A little bit, it was the fact that they looked remarkably similar for cousins. A little bit, it was the drink. On my right were the sons of Elrond. I was sure, although surprised, which one had sat next to me. It was probably part of his "keep an eye on me" plan.

On the other side of the hobbits sat Strider. (I had to keep reminding myself to call him "Strider.") I got my first glimpse of him earlier that night. I had spotted him easily, both because he spent most of the evening with Arwen and because Elrond kept giving him glaringly dirty looks. Arwen had left the party when her father did, but Aragorn … _Strider_ … had stayed.

Finishing out the circle was Tirithel, Legolas and a Rivendell elf named Estella, although she seemed to look more like Tirithel and Legolas than she did the other Rivendell elves. Tirithel and Legolas seemed to know her well, and she ended up sitting between the two of them.

I don't know if it was the wine, or if it was the night air, but something possessed me. Otherwise, I would have never spoken as I did.

"Do you guys want to play a game?"

All eyes were on me.

"I love games!" One of the hobbits answered excitedly. "What type of game?"

I smiled and I knew it to be that slow deliberate smile of someone who is very close to the vicinity of drunk. "It's called 'I never'." Nobody spoke. I looked around the circle and saw questioning, hesitant glances.

"I never?" Legolas finally asked. "How does one play?"

"Well, first of all, I must tell you that it is a drinking game. Which means the main point of it is for everyone to get rip-roaringly drunk."

"Too late for you, then, Pippin." Merry snickered as Pippin elbowed him, earning them both a scornful look from Strider.

"Besides that," I continued, trying to ignore the hobbits shoving each back and forth, "it is a way to get to know your companions better. Ok, what we do is go around the circle, each saying a fact about ourselves that begins with 'I never.' If someone else has done what we just said we never did, they drink."

Everyone was still looking at me, intrigued, but very confused.

"Ok, let me give you an example. I would say, 'I never used a sword.' Then anyone who has ever used a sword would drink. And then it would be Merry's turn, and so on." For some reason I looked to my right to see if Elladan was agreeable. If I could sway him, the rest would be a piece of cake.

He had his brows drawn and he was watching me intently. "Very well," he finally said, his face relaxing, "shall we attempt this 'I never' game?" The final words he addressed to the group. Everyone muttered agreement. It wasn't the most enthusiastic response I could have hoped for, but it at least they would give it a try. We passed around glasses and filled them all with wine. This was going to be interesting; I had only ever played with watered down beer in the past.

They all insisted I start.

"I never…" While I was thinking I caught Legolas's eye. "I've never been to Mirkwood."

Legolas smiled and nodded his approval of my choice of statements.

"So now?" Aragorn asked me.

"So now, everyone who _has_ been to Mirkwood drinks."

Aragorn shrugged and took a large sip of his wine. Legolas, Tirithel and Estella all grinned at each other as they tipped their glasses back. Elladan and Elrohir clinked their glasses together and then drank, earning themselves an astonished look from Legolas.

"Before you were begotten." Elrohir waved off Legolas's unspoken question. Legolas accepted the answer with a shrug and a tilt of his head.

Ignoring the exchange between the two elves, Merry jumped up excitedly. "My turn?" He looked at me and I nodded encouragingly at him. "I never swiped vegetables from Farmer Maggot." Pippin drank and Merry, sitting back down, took a big swig from his glass.

"No, Merry, you are supposed to say something you really haven't done." I explained.

He smiled unabashedly at me. "I wanted to make sure I got a chance to drink."

Well, I could not argue with that. Laughing, and noticing I was not the only one, I nodded at Pippin to go.

"I never stole vegetables from Farmer Maggot either." Both hobbits drank again. I sighed. Hopefully Aragorn … _Strider_ …would understand the rules as I explained them better.

The lanky ranger pondered his wine glass for a few moments before speaking.

"I never…" he looked across at Elladan and Elrohir. "I never wished to be one of the Firstborn."

I drank.

Elrohir nodded at Aragorn, his lips pursed in understanding. This seemed to be part of an earlier conversation. At the same time, Elladan frowned at me.

"Honestly?"

I shrugged and nodded sheepishly. Merry turned to me.

"Wait! So that means you _do_ wish to be one of the Firstborn."

"Yes. No. Sort of." I shook my head. "It means that I have, at some point, wished it. You drink if you have ever done the thing the person said." I looked around the circle, uncomfortable with everyone's eyes on me for probably the first time in my life. "I mean, I'm happy with who I am, just, you know, sometimes when I was little…"

"I wished to be a horse when I was little." Everyone giggled. I looked at Estella to see if she was mocking me, but she was smiling encouragingly, her eyes betraying her drunkenness. "One of the Mearas…" She sighed wistfully.

Legolas blinked a few times at Estella and shook his head before addressing the rest of us. "Do I speak now?" Several nods. "Very well. I never…" His eyes narrowed suspiciously and he turned to Tirithel. "I never kissed my best friend's sister."

Tirithel's eyes widened in alarm and he held his hands out to me imploringly. "What if we do not wish to drink?"

"I knew it!" cried Legolas. "How _could_ you?" He faced Estella. "How could _you_?"

Aragorn dropped his head into his hands. I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head.

"This is a wonderful game." I heard someone hiss sarcastically in my ear.

I opened my eyes and glared at Elladan. "Well, how was I supposed to know what kind of secrets you elves hide in your closets?"

This was not how it was supposed to go. Legolas, Tirithel and Estella were all arguing with each other. Elladan was snipping at me about anything and everything he could. And the hobbits next to me, apparently not interested in the hornet's nest I had stirred up, were continuing their own personal 'I never' game, in which they just kept saying things they had done in order for them both to drink.

It all stopped when Strider raised his glass to his lips and took a sip.

Silence. Very long tense silence.

"You don't mean… _our_ sister?" Elrohir's voice was naught but a whisper.

I felt my insides clench. Oh, what had I done? To my great surprise, and utmost relief, both Elladan's and Elrohir's faces broke out in smiles.

"We knew you fancied her, but we had no idea she…" Elladan began excitedly.

"…felt the same about you. I mean _look_ at you." Elrohir finished for him. "You're so _scruffy_!"

Tirithel reached around Estella to shove Legolas. "They are happy. Why are you not?"

Legolas folded his arms and tried to look sullen, but his face eventually broke into a smile. "I supposed my sister could find a worse elf." Tirithel laughed and hugged Estella and Legolas in one giant embrace.

"Though not _much_ worse." Legolas teased, his voice muffled from Tirithel's grasp.

"Still think my game is bad?" I smirked at Elladan who, to my immense surprise, not only smiled at me, but also put his arm around me and squeezed me against himself before releasing me. I attributed it to his happiness about his sister, not to mention the amount of wine we had all consumed.

After that, the game went somewhat without incident. We continued around the rest of the circle, and everyone had pretty much gotten the hang of the rules.

Estella never poured ink on her father's best robes. Legolas drank, and then swatted Tirithel when he fell over laughing.

Tirithel never read his sister's journal. Legolas did not drink, but could not help a guilty look, earning him a smack from Estella. Elrohir and Elladan both drank heartily, not being in any danger since their sister was not present to witness it.

Elrohir never split his pants falling off a horse when he was learning to ride. Elladan glared at him and took a drink. Tirithel, after being chided by Legolas, also drank.

Elladan's glare turned into a smirk. He never hid from King Thranduil in a closet. Elrohir laughed and took a drink, as did Legolas and Tirithel. The two Mirkwood elves looked at each other and cracked up.

By the time it came back to my turn, we were all laughing and drinking, including the two hobbits who were immersed in their own game of "I never," completely ignoring the rest of us, but their laughter mingling with ours.

I cannot quite say why I said what I did. It kind of just came out. I felt very warm, and the world was kind of fuzzy. I looked around the circle at the people, and elves, with whom I sat. I was flooded with such a feeling of contentment, of happiness, of giddiness, I cannot even explain. Anyone who has overindulged in alcohol knows exactly what I mean.

With a foolish smile, I tilted my head to the right and my eyes met Elladan's. I forgot what I had been about to say when I saw the stars reflected there.

"I never kissed an elf."


	10. The Flip Side

I like to think that I am a patient man, but there are some things that push all the right buttons and make me fly off the handle. I think, considering the circumstances, I have been more than understanding about this whole waking up in a fantasy world thing. Yeah, I may have had a few outbursts here and there, but overall I have been extremely calm, considering the amount of attention some of these elves seem to be giving my wife.

That night was different. It started out fine; I know my wife likes to dance and party more than I do, and I never hold her back. I have no reason to. She goes out and has her fun and comes back home to me. That's all I ask. Sometimes she comes home later than I expected – or later than she initially told me she would – and we have a fight, but we always make up quickly. I trust her, and I know she would never do anything to betray that trust.

That night I knew she wasn't ready to go to bed when I wanted to, so I kissed her goodbye and left to find my way back to our room. When I finally found it (all these elf buildings look the same), I fell into bed, exhausted. Being stuck in Lord of the Crap was much more tiring than I would have thought.

When I woke up, I rolled over and there was no one next to me. It still seemed to be the middle of the night. Now, there are no clocks here; there are no watches here. The elves don't seem to care much about what time it is. It could have been midnight; it could have been five am; I had no way of knowing. I thought I had been asleep for a while, but it still wasn't close to being light out.

I got out of bed and walked over to the archway that served as a door and a window. I couldn't hear the music from the party anymore so I figured it was pretty late. In fact, I couldn't hear much of anything outside, except the weird animal noises that I had to listen to every night for the past few days. I stood there for a little while, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and wondering one thing. If the party was over, where was my wife?

I pulled on my clothes from the day before, determined to go and find her. I can't tell you what I was thinking, running off into the night in a strange (and I do mean _strange_ ) place with no idea where she could be, but there I was, walking down the path that I thought led back to where the party had been.

I must have been mistaken, because I found myself in some woods that I'm pretty sure I hadn't been in before. After stumbling around for a while in the dark, I came across a clearing and stopped. In the center of the clearing were some rocks, and on the rocks sat my wife.

She sat still, like a statue. I didn't approach her but stayed where I was, hidden by the bushes and trees. Something held me back; I'm not sure what. She was staring at the sky and I turned my head to see what she was looking at, but all I could see were some stars. I know she always liked stargazing, but her gaze was so intense and she looked so sad. It was weird.

I was about to approach her when I saw someone enter from the other side of the clearing. I couldn't make out who he was until he was right next to her. It was one of those elves: Elrond's son: the one who had been such a jerk to her every time he saw her, the one who was ready to kill me over some name of some long-dead elf.

He knelt down in front of her and I felt my fists clench at my sides. But rather than rush in there and try to attack him, I watched and waited to see what would happen. At first she didn't even acknowledge him, not until he reached out and grabbed her hand. If I hadn't already experienced how strong these elves were, I would have lost it and ran at him. As it was, I just clenched my teeth.

She looked down at him and closed her eyes, as if she was in pain. I had never seen her look so sad before, as if her heart was broken. What could have happened from when I left the party 'til now?

"Why do you sit here alone when you know you are welcome in my chambers?" Elrond's son was certainly ballsy, talking to another man's wife like that. I would have to talk to Legolas in the morning. He'd help me out.

"I sit in the light of the Star of Eärendil. It alone gives me what comfort I might find in this world." Ok. Admittedly, my wife had been acting strange since we got here, and knew an awful lot about this place, but this was just weird. Star of what? 'What comfort I might find in this world?' Seriously, what was wrong with her?

Elrond's son reached up and placed his hand on her cheek. I was too curious and stunned by her last comment to even get angry.

"I would think its light would cause you pain. How can you find comfort in something that has caused this world so much grief?"

She stood up and pulled away from him, looking extremely pissed off.

"What do I care of the grief of the world. Who cares for my loss?"

At this point, I had no idea what to think. There was my wife, standing a few yards away, but her words didn't make any sense to me. What loss was she talking about? Elrond's son seemed to know, because he didn't question her. He only stood up and walked a few steps away from her before answering.

"I care. But you must let him go." He slowly turned around to face her again. "Forget him. Forget your husband."

My hands clenched even tighter at my sides, but before I could rush out and kill him, I heard my wife laugh bitterly.

"Forget him? Forget him who I pledged my life to all those years ago? Forget him who my spirit is bound to until the breaking of the world? _Forget_ him?"

Elrond's son walked towards her. "Yes, forget him. After all the pain he has caused you; after all you have told me he had done to you, forget him." He took her hands in his. "You should be with one who loves you, who will not hurt you."

She stared at him for a long time and I realized that I was holding my breath. I exhaled slowly, careful to be quiet, because there was no way I wanted either of them to know I witnessed this little scene. Just when I was sure she was going to allow him to kiss her, she pulled away again and turned her back.

"You are but a child. You know nothing." She looked over her shoulder at him. "Leave me."

He walked to her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Tell me you feel nothing for me and I will go."

She spun around and shoved him, making him stagger back a few steps. Despite the whole situation, I felt myself smile, feeling just a little bit smug.

"It matters not what I feel for you." All the smugness went away. So she _did_ feel something for him. "Now go, _please_."

Elrond's son's chin dropped to his chest and he closed his eyes. He looked so sad that if it weren't _my wife_ he was hitting on, I might even feel sorry for him.

"Then answer me one question. Why are you here, in Imladris, if not to be with me?"

She walked over to him and took his chin in her hand, lifting it up so he was forced to look her in the eye.

"He is here." She dropped her hand and they stared at each other for a long time before Elrond's son spoke again.

"And were he not?"

"Were he not?" she repeated. "He is still my husband."

"He does not deserve you."

I had heard enough. I turned around and stormed back through the forest, not caring if they heard me leave or not. What had I ever done to him? I didn't even know him and here he is, hitting on my wife and telling her I don't deserve her. And she didn't seem at all upset by it, even hinting that she had feelings for him, and I was the only thing holding her back. Well, if that's how she felt, I wouldn't bother her any more. Tomorrow Elrond would hold his council and I would do everything within my power to join up with the Fellowship. I didn't care about the Ring or their quest or any of this other fantasy nonsense that gets her all excited. All I cared was getting myself as far away from here, and _them_ as possible.


	11. In The Beginning

In the beginning, there was pain. And I felt the pain, that it was bad. And I said, "Let there be aspirin." And lo, there was no aspirin, nor was there water with which to swallow the aspirin had there been any aspirin. And thus, I said, "Let there be ibuprofen, or Excedrin, or Tylenol, or _something_. And lo, there was no ibuprofen, or Excedrin, or Tylenol or anything; there was naught but the pain.

I moaned into the pillow, which surely was made of some sort of rock, and rolled over. This proved to be a bad idea, for that's when the nausea hit. Despite the pounding of my head I managed to swing my legs out of bed and stagger to the bathroom before emptying what little contents were left in my stomach.

That's where he found me, lying face down on the floor of what was supposed to pass as a bathroom, my head next to the chamber pot in case my stomach should decide to act up again. He lifted me easily into his arms and carried me back to bed. Although he placed me down gently, it still jarred my aching head. I opened one eye and saw…Legolas?

He sat down on the bed next to me as I moaned again and covered my face with my arm. I felt his hand behind my neck, trying to prop me up, and I pushed it away.

"Drink this," he said softly. "You will feel better."

I opened my eye again. He was holding a cup out to me.

"It won't stay down."

"It will," he insisted, reaching behind my head so he could hold it up enough for me to swallow.

I figured I was probably going to throw up either way and if I drank, maybe he would go away and let me die in peace. I allowed him to place the cup to my lips and tip it up – not that I was in any condition to stop him. I held the thick warm liquid in my mouth, afraid to swallow.

"If you keep it in your mouth, it will not help you."

I closed my eyes and swallowed. I braced myself for the wave of nausea that was sure to hit. It never came. I didn't feel better, but I certainly didn't feel any worse.

Legolas gently lowered my head down to the pillow. He pulled the blankets up over me and I didn't hear him walking away so I opened my eyes. He smiled at me and leaned down to adjust the blankets.

"I will return to check on you in a while. In the meantime, try and sleep. You should feel better when you wake."

He turned and left the room, which was good since whatever was in the drink he gave me was causing me to slip quickly into sleep.

* * *

When I woke, I found myself alone in the room again. I took stock of my condition. Headache: gone. Nausea: gone. Legolas: gone, but totally my hero at that point in time. I had to get the recipe for that concoction he made me drink. These elves had some handy things.

I lay still for several moments, trying to discern if movement would bring back the symptoms. Risking a relapse into misery, I sat up. It wasn't so bad. I didn't feel great, but I wasn't willing death to come swiftly anymore.

It was at that point I realized I was kind of hungry. As I sat there, wondering if I had the strength and the motivation to get out of bed and go find some food, someone knocked on the door.

"Come in," I called. Wow. My voice sounded like I had been doing shots of sandpaper last night.

The door opened and in walked Legolas, carrying a tray with food on it. He placed it down on the dressing table, came over and sat on the foot of the bed.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Better." I smiled at him. He was the awesomest elf ever, bringing me food. But then I realized who _wasn't_ here, bringing me food and I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at him. "Where's Justin?"

The briefest frown crossed Legolas's face. "He is not here." he stated simply.

"Thanks. I can see that. But where is he?"

"Do not worry; he is fine."

Legolas did not betray any emotions on his face, but when a question is being avoided, it is fairly obvious. Growing impatient, I folded my arms across my chest.

"I didn't ask you if he was here, or if he is fine. I asked _where_ he is."

Without a word, Legolas got up and walked over to the dressing table. He picked up the tray of food and brought it over to the bed. He set it down on my lap, the whole while not meeting my eyes. A knot began to form in my stomach and it was not from the alcohol I had consumed the night before.

"Legolas, you're starting to worry me. Where is my husband? What's wrong with him? Why isn't he here?"

Legolas pressed his lips into a thin line and sat back down next to me on the bed. Finally, he looked up at me. "Do you remember nothing of last night?"

I groaned.

"Do you not remember telling Elladan you never kissed an elf?"

I vaguely remembered that, and a game of I Never, and hysterical hobbits sitting next to me, and some fight about someone kissing someone else's sister. I rubbed my head, which was starting to hurt again.

"Yeah, I remember that." Then something dawned on me and I shook my head. "But what does that have to do with Justin? He wasn't even there."

Legolas took a deep breath. "Do you remember anything that happened after that?"

I scrunched my eyes shut and tried to remember. Everything was hazy. Everything, that was, except how Elladan's eyes looked right before I said what I said.

"I think I remember Elladan storming off."

Legolas cocked an eyebrow. "Do you remember following him?"

I tried really hard to remember following Elladan.

"No."

Legolas took another slow deep breath.

"Please, Legolas, tell me what happened. Tell me where my husband is and why he is not here." Tears were beginning to well up in my eyes. I had a very bad feeling about this. What had I done?

"You ran after Elladan. Elrohir, saying he must make sure you did not kill each other, followed you. The rest of us returned to our chambers. Later, Elrohir came to my chambers and asked me to look after you. You were unconscious and he carried you to your room. Your husband was not there."

My heart was beating wildly. What had happened to Justin? But didn't Legolas say he was fine?

Legolas continued, "I came here and saw you were sleeping peacefully. When I returned to my room, your husband was there."

Legolas stopped talking and glanced at the door. He looked down at the bed. His eyes traveled over the food on the tray.

"What?" Was I missing something? "Go on. There must be more. It's not making sense."

Legolas met my gaze. "You remember nothing of what happened after you followed Elladan?" I shook my head. "Justin said he saw you in the woods with Elladan and he did not wish to return to his chambers. He would say naught else."

It felt like my heart had stopped beating, and then it was pounding in my chest. Words failed me. My throat felt closed, so even if I had words, they wouldn't have come out. I looked down at the bed, hating the way Legolas was looking at me; hating Legolas, hating everybody, but mostly, hating myself. And the worst of it was I did not even know what had happened, what Justin had seen. What did I do?

"Please, leave." I managed to choke out. I just wanted to be alone. I felt the tears start to roll down my cheeks. What had I done?

I felt the bed shift as Legolas stood up. I did not look at him. I could not look at him.

"I will be down by the river later today. Your husband wishes for me to help him improve his skills with a bow."

"Why are you telling me this?" I whispered.

"Now you know where he will be, if you choose to speak with him."

I did not hear any footsteps, but the slamming of the door let me know I was once more alone.


	12. Into My Own Hands

I pushed the food around the tray. I was never much of an eater when I was upset, and today was no exception. I supposed I should try and eat something; who knew when or if that magic draught Legolas gave me earlier would wear off and the excruciating hangover would return.

I managed to choke down some fruit. There was a lump in my throat; there was a lump in my stomach, neither of which was improved by eating. Placing the tray back on the table where Legolas had put it when he came in, I left the room, determined to find Legolas and my husband.

_Justin_. What _had_ I done? I definitely didn't remember being alone in the woods with Elladan. I did remember _wanting_ to be alone in the woods with Elladan. The memory of that gave me such a guilty feeling in the pit of my stomach I was afraid my light breakfast was going to rear its ugly head again.

But, wanting and doing weren't the same thing, right? I mean, we all have moments of weakness, and I was but a mortal woman. What chance did I have against the charms of an elf? What chance did I have when his eyes were fathomless and they were looking at me like _that_? It was a miracle I didn't throw myself at him right then and there, in front of the seven other people playing that game with us.

_You_ did _pretty much throw yourself at him,_ said that rational little voice in my head. " _I never kissed an elf." What_ were _you thinking? Even if nothing happened, that statement alone is incriminating enough._

True, although I was very drunk, and it has always been in my nature to flirt.

_Tell that to Justin_.

What had he seen? What had I done? Well, there was really only one person who could answer that, and I was going to find him right now. I looked around and realized that I wasn't anywhere near the river. In fact, I wasn't sure where I was at all. I had gone through the woods towards the river, I thought, but obviously while I was lost in thought, I got lost in the woods as well.

"Hello?" I called, hoping to hear a friendly reply. After all, Rivendell was well guarded, right?

Nothing.

"La la la lally?" I sang out hopefully. I heard a snicker behind me. I froze, inexplicably afraid to turn around.

"I see the nonsense of these half-breed elves is catching." I did not recognize the voice, though it sounded vaguely familiar. Melodic, warm and beautiful though it was, it had a hard edge to it that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Slowly, I turned around and gasped when I saw who stood before me.

"What do you want?" My voice sounded shaky even though I tried to keep it even.

"What do I want?" he repeated smoothly. "I want for you to come with me." He held out his hand to me, palm open, inviting me to take it. I stared, dumbfounded, at his hand and then looked back up at his face.

"Come with you?" My brain was not functioning as fast as I would have liked it to. Otherwise I may not have just repeated what he said. Perhaps then I would have come up with a brilliant response that would save my neck. As it was, that was not the case.

I saw his eyes flash dangerously before settling into a possessively tender expression. He dropped his hand back to his side.

"We must hurry." He looked over his right shoulder and, placing his thumb and first finger at his lips, whistled loudly. From a distance, I heard something that sounded like hoof beats. I laughed nervously and he turned his head back to look at me.

"I'm not going anywhere with you." I took a step backwards.

He smiled at me; a feral, ruthless smile. "I will take you by force, if needs be."

I took another step back. "I am not your wife!"

Sadness crossed his eyes before they flashed angrily. "I may no longer posses your heart. But our bond endures until the end of Arda."

"No!" I yelled. He didn't understand. I wasn't saying we were no longer married; I was saying we never were – I was _not_ Nerdanel! But before I could clarify, a large brown horse trotted up. The next thing I realized I was on the back of the horse with him behind me and we were galloping off through the trees.

* * *

There was no chance of talking while we rode that horse through the forest. There was also no chance of me getting off. I was aware of his arms on either side of me, his forearms pressed against my waist, painfully tight, ensuring I would not escape. Part of me watched his hands in awe. This harsh, rough elf was guiding – for that was the only word to describe it – the horse with just the barest touch of his hands on the horse's shoulders. As tight as his grip was on me, it was with an equally gentle touch that he handled the horse.

Of course, there was that other part of me; the part that was desperately trying to figure out what was going to happen to me, how I was going to escape, and then a truly horrifying thought crossed my mind.

Nobody even knew where I was.

The last person I saw was Legolas, and he never saw me leave the room. For all he knew, I was still there. When would anyone even miss me? Legolas would not expect to see me again. If anyone came to the room to collect the remains of my breakfast, they would just assume I had gone walking in the gardens. And Justin…

_Justin_.

Justin most certainly would not be looking for me. In fact, if I knew my husband, he would be patently avoiding me. But once he realized I was missing; what would he think then? I would hope he knew me well enough to realize that I wouldn't just run off and not tell anyone where I was going. No matter how mad he was at me, or how much whatever he saw hurt him, I would think he still cared enough about me to worry. But how long would it be until any of them even realized I was missing?

No, I was not going to be able to rely on being rescued. I was going to have to take matters into my own hands. Of course, I had no idea how I would do that without getting myself into more trouble than I was already in.

The horse slowed down as we neared the edge of the forest and began to climb a hill. Maybe when they eventually figured out I was missing, maybe then Legolas would remember our encounter a few days ago. Or maybe Elrond would remember what Legolas had told him.

I didn't like betting my future well being on the memory capabilities of men. Or elves. Whatever.

We reached the top of the hill and the horse stopped. The elf swung off and then extended his arms up to me to help me down. I swallowed my pride and the nasty remark that had sprung to my lips and accepted his help.

Once I was on the ground he motioned for me to follow him and walked towards a few logs set in a circle around a pit that looked like it once held a fire. I considered turning and running in the opposite direction but realized the stupidity of that action and, consenting defeat, followed him.

We both sat down on a log and he pulled out a pouch from under his traveling cloak. From the pouch he took out two rolls and handed one to me. I took it and sat and watched as he ate the other one. When he finished, he narrowed his eyes at me.

"Eat, Nerdanel. You will need your strength."

"I'm not hungry." I answered honestly. "And I'm _not_ Nerdanel."

There was that hurt look in his eyes again. "Deny me your love. My heart hardened long ago. But do not deny your own being."

"No," I sighed in exasperation. "I'm not denying _anything_. I am not your wife! I am not Nerdanel! My name is Arandil. You have mistaken me for someone I am most definitely _not!_ "

He raised an eyebrow and then narrowed his eyes again. "Arandil…" I couldn't tell if it was a question or a statement.

"Yes." I said simply, figuring it was a safe answer either way.

"Tell me something, _Arandil_." The way he spit out my name sent a frightened shiver down my spine. "Are you purposefully hurtful? Or has your humor turned hateful after all these years?"

"What?" I shook my head. I honestly could not follow the conversation, and I was a part of it!"

"Never you mind." His voice was almost a growl and he spoke through clenched teeth. "I came here with a purpose and by the Light of my Jewels, your venomous disposition will _not_ deter me.

Finally, my brain kicked into gear and I saw my opportunity. Because, obviously, reason was not going to work on him.

"If I am so _venomous_ , as you say, why not leave me be. Bring me back to Rivendell. Go on your mission, or whatever, and leave me alone."

I was shocked by his wild laugh. "You _are_ my 'mission,' as you say. Or at least a portion of it." He leaned towards me and my stomach clenched nervously. "We _will_ be a family again, Nerdanel."

He slid onto a closer log. I fought the urge to move away from him, figuring it would only serve to provoke or antagonize him. I froze as he reached a hand towards my face. He must have caught my reaction because, after the briefest of pauses, he returned his hand to his lap.

His eyes burned with such a profound sadness I might have felt bad for him if, you know, he hadn't _kidnapped_ me.

"I know the rift between us is great." He voice was barely a whisper, but it was no less intense for the low volume. "But it too can be mended."

He slipped off the log and knelt at my feet. I realized that I was holding my breath and released it, sighing heavily. His eyes were burning with something that looked far too much like longing to me.

"It pains me greatly, the fear I see in your eyes." He looked down at the ground. In a sudden change of mood, he was on his feet.

"Come." He held out his hands to help me to my feet. "We will rekindle what passion once burned between us."

I gasped, frightened that he meant we would do that _right now_. He caught my reaction and laughed, sounding giddy and wild at the same time.

"Easy, wife." Although his gaze was possessive, his voice sounded almost kind. "You need not fear me, but I have faith that you will come to desire me once more." The corners of his mouth curled into a harsh smirk. "Unless you have grown accustomed to half-breed children as companions."

And with that caustic remark, he left me alone with my roll and my confused and swirling thoughts and returned to the horse.


	13. Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch

"What's 'Erendil'?"

The thwap of Legolas's bow sounded through the clearing. The elf watched as the arrow hit the target before turning towards me. He had a blank look on his face. He _always_ had a blank look on his face.

"Why do you ask?"

Oh, and besides always having a blank look, he liked to avoid questions he didn't want to answer, kind of like my wife, when I think about it. No wonder she liked him so much. But thinking about her and her taste for elves sends me over the edge into a fit of rage, so instead I decided to concentrate my effort on getting this dumb elf to answer my questions.

"My wife mentioned it the other night. You know, when she was in the woods with Elrohir."

"Elladan." Legolas corrected.

"Whoever." Honestly, did it matter? "She said something about the Light of Eardil or Erendil or…"

"Eärendil?" Legolas asked.

"Yeah." If he knew the word, he knew what it was, and he was not getting out of answering my question. "So what is that?"

Legolas furrowed his brows. "What was the context in which she mentioned Eärendil?"

I couldn't decide if he was avoiding the question or not, so I tried to think of what she had said exactly, despite how much it hurt to remember what I had seen.

"She said something about sitting in the light of Eärendil, that it gave her comfort."

"Eärendil is our brightest star." Legolas looked thoughtful. It wasn't much different than his blank look. I'm sure my face looked similar since I had no idea what any of this meant.

"Elladan seemed to think that looking at it would bother her. He said something about the 'grief of the world' and that it was caused by this _star_."

Legolas raised an eyebrow. "It _has_ caused the world grief."

He waited a minute longer before launching into a lengthy description of the history of this star – which, it turns out, was not _actually_ a star – that had a lot of words I didn't know. Apparently, elves killed each other over it, someone lost a hand, someone else got chained to a mountain naked and caught on fire and they all swore a lot. I don't know. I also didn't particularly care, but I didn't want to offend the only almost-friend I had here so I let him finish.

Once he was done, I tried to pull out the pieces that were relevant to my own questions.

"So, this simril…"

"Silmaril," Legolas corrected.

"Right. It's a star now?" Legolas nodded. "I still don't get how it would either comfort or upset my wife. I don't understand why she would care about it at all."

Legolas turned and shot another arrow at the target. I knew he wasn't ignoring me so I let him go. He was probably the most normal of these elves. The other ones were fine just standing around looking at each other for hours, but Legolas was much more active, especially when he was thinking. That's probably why I didn't mind him quite so much. That and the fact that I hadn't found my wife with him alone, in a…

Oh, never mind.

After one more shot, he turned back to me. "I think we must discuss it with Lord Elrond. Between this and my unexpected meeting the other morning, I fear something fell is stirring. I shall bring it up at the council."

"No!" Legolas frowned at me. I hadn't meant to shout. "You can't." Even though the thought of her made my insides hurt right now, I remembered something my wife said about not changing things. I had seen the movie. There was no discussion of jewels turned into a star at the Council of Elrond. All they talked about was the ring. Her urgency when she told me that everything must stay the same was so strong; I didn't want to take a chance. But what would I say to Legolas?

"I think it is the best course."

"No…" I stalled. "I think it would be better…" Oh no. What to say? "…if instead you…" Um. "…spoke to him in private." Oh thank goodness I thought of something.

Legolas seemed to consider that. "Perhaps you are right." He shot one more arrow. "Come; let us seek out Elrond now."

We didn't get far before we heard someone walking through the woods to the side of us. Legolas held up his hand towards me and I stopped. Out from between the trees walked my wife. I looked at the ground. I didn't want to talk to her right now.

"Arandil," Legolas said, not sounding as if he was surprised to see her. That caught my attention and I looked back up. "I'm glad you decided to join us."

I bet he told her where we were going to be. These elves, I swear, they butt their noses in where they're not wanted. But I didn't have long to stew about that; my wife narrowed her eyes at both of us. Well, she narrowed her eyes at Legolas. Me, she practically looked right through.

"Greetings, friend." She continued to eye him warily. "I do not know by what name you call me, but I assure you, I come in peace."

She looked like my wife; she sounded like my wife; but she did not act at all like my wife. And I don't just mean because she was all, "don't know what name you call me by;" her mannerisms were all wrong: the way she walked, the way she moved, I don't know, it was just… _off_.

Legolas inclined his head towards her. "And I meant no insult by naming you. Might I inquire, what shall we call you?"

I rolled my eyes. I couldn't help it. It was just, come _on_ with all this.

"Yes," my voice sounded harsh with that one word so I tried to ease up a bit. It didn't quite work. "What should we call you _now_? Has 'Arandil' gotten old and you want to change your name again? I know how you get tired of things that have been around a while."

She looked at me as if she didn't even know who I was. "You may call me Nerdanel, the same name I have borne my whole life."

I couldn't talk to her anymore. I turned, walked a few feet away and stood with my back to the two of them. I would have walked all the way to my room, but I wasn't sure I could do so without getting lost so I remained there.

I heard Legolas continue his conversation with 'Nerdanel', or whatever she would change her name to five minutes from now.

"Greetings, Nerdanel, I am Legolas of the Woodland Realm."

"Greetings, Legolas." A pause. "Forgive me, I must ask. Are you acquainted with Galadriel?"

"I am not, although my father had dealings with her and others of the Golden Wood, but that was many years ago." Silence; then, "Might I ask how you know the Lady?"

"She is my niece."

I turned around. Legolas was staring intently at her eyes.

" _Nerdanel!_ " he finally exclaimed. "Upon first seeing you, I took you for someone else, but it is clear to me now I was mistaken."

I stormed over to them. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Legolas put a hand on my shoulder. "We must seek out Lord Elrond. This is not your wife."

"What?!" I looked at her, this person who looked _exactly_ like my wife. "What are you talking about?"

She examined me in the same manner and then narrowed her eyes again, murmuring to herself. "You _do_ resemble my husband… _slightly_ , though only outwardly. By your eyes I can clearly perceive you are not he."

"Well," I answered, "you look, _exactly_ like my wife." Then I added as an afterthought, "And by your eyes I _perceive_ nothing."

A corner of her mouth turned up and she exhaled, as if I had amused her.

"What?" I asked.

She shook her head. "I apologize." Her smile grew wider. "Your response…" she shook her head again and glanced at the ground before meeting my gaze. I was surprised by the warmth I saw in her eyes. "Perhaps it is not just outwardly that you resemble my husband."

I smiled back at her, though I didn't exactly know why. Then a thought struck me.

"Were you in the woods last night with Elrohir?"

"Elladan," Legolas corrected again. Wow, I had forgotten he was even there.

"Right, Elladan."

'Nerdanel' looked at the ground. "He is but a child. He knows not what he does."

"So it _was_ you." I didn't know what to feel: relief, obviously, but also guilt. I had so easily believed that it was my wife in that clearing. What did that say about my trust? Obviously, it was Nerdanel's husband that had to worry. I felt a little sorry for the guy.

"Come," Legolas urged again, "let us all speak with Lord Elrond. It is unprecedented that you should be here." He directed that last bit towards Nerdanel.

"These are dark times," she said. I didn't think her response made any sense but Legolas didn't question it so I silently followed as they walked back towards the buildings.


	14. Me Too: I'm an Aberration Too

I didn't sleep that first night out there in the strange forest with the giant boulders that almost looked like they had faces on them. It was freezing and I was hungry and the crazy elf kept staring; I could feel his eyes burning into me even when I was turned away.

At one point he lay down behind me and draped an arm over my shoulder. I tried to push him off but I was shivering too hard and the warmth of his body actually felt good against me, counteracting the cold night air. Eventually the tremors subsided but I still couldn't sleep, not lying in the arms of my kidnapper.

The first rays of the sun burst over the horizon and glinted off the silver flecks in the stone beside us. Fëanor released me and jumped nimbly to his feet. I sat up slowly and hugged my knees to my chest. He narrowed his eyes and frowned.

"Come, let us eat and then I will return you to the valley."

My sleep deprived brain could not come up with a response so I just stared dumbly at him.

"That is what you want, is it not?"

He looked and sounded so hurt that, had he not captured me yesterday I may have felt sorry for him. Ok, regardless of the fact that he captured me yesterday I _did_ feel sorry for him, which probably explains why I said what I did.

"I'll help you find her, if you want." Yes, I realize my brain obviously went missing but I was going on no sleep and he truly looked pitiful, if pitiful could be that intense.

He raised one eyebrow at me but did not speak.

"I'll help you find your wife; Nerdanel." I'm not sure if he was waiting for me to clarify, but I couldn't think of anything else to say and I just wanted him to stop looking at me like that.

He narrowed his eyes again and regarded me for a few moments longer. I started to fidget. Nerdanel must have had nerves of steel. Just when I thought I couldn't take it any longer, he finally spoke.

"What makes you think she is here, in this wood, that we might find her?"

I shrugged. " _You're_ here. _I'm_ here. Who's to say she's not here too?"

He pressed his lips together. " _You're_ here?"

Now, I did realize to whom I was talking. I did know all of the horrible things for which he was responsible. I also couldn't resist being my usual sarcastic self.

"I am." I smirked at the creator of the Great Jewels. "Standing right in front of you."

His eyes flashed and I held up my hands in front of me in surrender.

"I shouldn't be here any more than you should." I clarified, and then frowned as I thought about what I had said. "Actually, I probably should be here even less than you should." I frowned again; that didn't come out right. But before I could try and correct myself again, Fëanor took a step closer to me and I froze.

"Then we are both aberrations."

His voice was quiet, thoughtful. I wrapped my arms around myself and bit my lip, not sure what to make of his change in demeanor. His eyes looked through me, focused on a point behind my head, as he seemed to try to decide how to proceed.

"I will not be welcomed, should I return with you." He didn't sound upset, just like he was stating a fact. I had to agree with him; he probably wouldn't be.

"So bring me back." I stood up and dusted the leaves off my legs. "I'll see what I can find out about your wife, and you can continue to look in the woods and the area around the valley. We can meet up later and I can tell you what I know."

It seemed like a good idea to me; if nothing else, it would return me to the safety of Rivendell. Fëanor, however, wrinkled his nose as if he smelled something distasteful.

"What? You don't like my plan?"

His stood perfectly still except for his head which he tilted from one side to the other as if he were listening for something. His eyes, which had just been narrowed at me, were wide, scanning the tree line. My stomach twisted.

"What…?"

He held up his palm towards me in a gesture I could not mistake and I stopped talking. After a moment he grabbed my wrist.

"Come," he hissed in a whisper so low I barely heard, jerking me behind him as he jogged towards where the horse was standing."

"What…?" I repeated.

" _Urqui_!" He spat the word in disgust. "Several, approaching from the east."

He released my wrist when we reached the horse and placed both hands on its neck, leaning in to press his forehead against the animal.

"You're running away?" I whispered loudly.

He spun to face me. "There are too many to battle empty handed. Had I my sword, it would be different. But since I have no weapon…" He clenched his jaw and exhaled through his nose, glaring the whole time. "Yes, _we're_ running away." He turned his back to me and smacked the horse's rump, causing it to run down the hill into the trees.

I gasped in shock but before I could say or do anything, he grabbed me and flipped me over his shoulder and the next think I knew, he had swung us both up into a tree. We climbed; I slipped; he pushed me further up, until we were sufficiently high enough that it would be difficult to spot us from the ground. I steadied myself on the large limb and glared at Fëanor until he looked at me.

"How could you do that to the horse?" I tried to put as much of my anger and shock into the whisper as I could. Instead of recoiling from my potent fury, he laughed.

"There's a large party of orcs headed towards us and you worry for the horse?"

I bit my lip as I nodded and my eyes welled up with tears. I swallowed, hoping they would go away. Fëanor stared at me, his eyes never softening in their regard, but his voice was gentler when he spoke.

"It was a calculated risk. By galloping towards them he would possibly startle them enough that he might pass through their ranks before they could attack. His strike also gave us time to hide. He understood the danger and faced it bravely." And then, almost to himself, he added, "I hope I might one day encounter him again so that I might thank him for his service."

His response so surprised me that I didn't say anything for a while. Fëanor remained silent as well, intently watching something through the trees that I couldn't see.

"Can I ask you something?" I finally said. He nodded without looking at me. "Why don't you have a weapon?"

His eyes flicked briefly to me and then back to the forest. "Do _you_ have a weapon?"

"Um, _no_ , but I wasn't running around in the woods by myself, was I?"

He exhaled sharply and continued to glare into the trees. I waited. He folded his arms across his chest.

"I have been forbidden to carry a weapon."

" _Forbidden?_ " I said, a little louder than a whisper. Terrific. Now, when _my_ life was in danger, the kinslayer decided to follow the rules.

Fëanor reached out and clasped his hand over my mouth. "They are near." He took his hand off my face and folded his arms back across his chest. I saw his foot tapping silently against the tree trunk and realized it must be killing him to be stuck up here instead of being able to fight.

"Since when do _you_ do what you're told?" I whispered.

"I have no choice but to do so." He answered quietly and then frowned. "Do not speak again. Their ears are as keen as mine."

That effectively put an end to our conversation. I pressed myself as close to the tree as I could, willing myself to be invisible to whatever was about to walk into view. Instead of worrying about what was coming and what would happen to us, I wondered what Fëanor meant by having no choice about the weapon. It was odd, to be sure; but then again, everything about the situation was odd.

A twig snapped below us and all thoughts of Fëanor's sword left my mind. Wow, that sounded dirty. You know what I mean; I was certainly not thinking about _that_ at a time like _this_.

The most hideous, gruesome creature I had ever seen in my life walked by, twenty feet below me. He looked like pus or vomit or fear or evil or scarred, burnt flesh or a combination of all of those. In his one hand he carried a sword, as twisted and scary as he was, and in his other he was holding a rope which I only then realized was attached at the other end to some sort of dog-like creature.

I'd like to take that back and apologize to dogs everywhere. The only feature this _thing_ had in common with a dog was it walked on four legs.

I feared I would fall out of the tree, I was shaking so much. I glanced at Fëanor to see his reaction. He looked like a cat about to pounce; the tension in his muscles was obvious. He met my gaze with an intensity that was becoming familiar. In that familiarity I tried to find comfort, but there was not much to be found. He reached out and clasped my arm, his grip tight but not uncomfortable. I'm not sure if he was trying to reassure me or remind me to keep my mouth shut.

The non-dog below us snuffled at our tree and I gasped, my fear removing my good sense to keep quiet. Fëanor's fingers tightened around my arm and I took deep breaths, trying to slow my heartbeat and prevent another potentially fatal mistake.

Thankfully, the monster below us had not heard me, most likely due to the clamor of the rest of his monster friends who came stomping up the hill and out into the small clearing on top. There were four non-dogs and possibly two dozen orcs and I had to agree with Fëanor's assessment: weaponless, we would have been doomed.

A bird trilled in a nearby tree and I wondered at the audacity of it to pick that moment to draw attention up into the branches so close to where we were hiding. Fëanor narrowed his eyes in the direction of the sound. He obviously was annoyed with the bird as well.

The orcs' attention was now directed entirely too close to us. I began to fear detection when an answering warble sounded from a tree on the other side of the hill. If the first bird had almost killed us, this one was our savior. The orcs' focus was drawn away from us and I breathed a sigh of relief – silently, of course. I saw Fëanor shaking his head out of the corner of my eye and was surprised to see what looked like amusement on his face.

"Of all the…" he muttered, but was interrupted by a shriek from below us. I looked for the source of the sound and found it quickly: the orc I had first seen was lying on the ground, unmoving and seeping black ooze which I assumed was blood, a narrow stick protruding from his chest.

"What…?" I whispered, forgetting myself again.

"We're saved," Fëanor sneered, not sounding at all pleased. I couldn't understand why he wouldn't be elated by this news, or how the felling of one orc meant our salvation, but I didn't get a chance to ask. He jumped up, landing lightly on the branch next to mine.

"I would rather have been slain, I think, than be indebted to some _peredhel_." The way he said the last word made it sound like a curse. With one last disgusted guttural noise, he leapt up further into the tree and quickly out of my sight. And then all hell broke loose below me.

It was difficult to follow exactly what was happening. First there was a rain of arrows from the trees that took down half of the orcs and all but one of the beasts. Initially, the orcs were scattered and chaotic, but they quickly organized themselves and began to advance on the trees from where the arrows had come. As they approached, two elves swung down and drew swords on the remaining orcs.

The noise was horrible. There was metal clanging and orcs screeching; the dog-beast was making a sound that was a cross between a bark, a roar and a howl until one of the two elves sliced his neck, spattering black-red blood all over himself and everything else within a three foot radius.

I watched as all but two orcs were killed, the bodies of the dead monsters leaking their filthy blood into the ground. The elves made easy work of them, weaving in and out between the orcs in a deadly dance. It was hard to follow their movements; I only could see where they had been by the carnage they left behind.

The battle stopped in a natural lull as the four remaining combatants circled each other. I noticed a tear in the sleeve of one of the elves. The material around the rip was stained dark red. He flexed the arm and switched his sword to the other hand. I shifted in the tree to get a better look at them when I remembered Fëanor's parting words.

_I would rather have been slain, I think, than be indebted to some peredhel._

It hadn't registered at the time, what with orcs and non-dogs and elves and swords and blood and whatnot going on below me, but sure enough, as the uninjured elf stepped to his right I was able to catch sight of his face and my stomach dropped.

The orcs resumed their attack, each one swinging his sword at one of the brothers. The elves moved quickly, easily parrying each of the orcs' blows. The orcs drew them apart from each other and I realized I was holding my breath. I let it out slowly, quietly, and tried to remember to breathe as I watched the fight.

The uninjured brother feinted a few times and, after blocking a swing at his head, sliced the stomach of the orc he was fighting. The monster screamed and fell to the ground. The two elves advanced on the one remaining orc. The orc stood his ground, blocking their strikes, but not attacking. I wondered why until I saw the other orc, the one they had left for dead, begin to stir and reach into his boot, pulling out a twisted, mangled knife.

As he grasped the blade I felt my body begin to shake. Neither elf saw him and the other orc did not acknowledge him in any way. He would have a clear shot and would easily take down one of the two elves. It seemed like slow motion as he pulled his arm back. Without thinking I yelled something that sounded a little like, "No," and a lot like a blood-curdling scream.

All heads snapped towards my voice. The orc's arm began to bring the knife forward.

"Behind you!" I screeched, hoping the elves would listen and know I was on their side.

The knife flew through the air as the uninjured brother spun, slashing his sword down and catching the handle of the knife with his blade, deflecting it enough that it fell harmlessly to the ground. At the same time, the other orc slashed at his now-turned back. His brother kicked the orc hard in the midsection, sending him off to the side and allowing his brother to jump out of the way.

I don't know what happened in the battle after that. I am somewhat ashamed to say I covered my eyes and may have started crying a little bit. Soon it was silent. I peeked out from between my fingers to see one brother kneeling on the ground, tending to his wound and the other dragging the corpses into a pile. They didn't seem interested in finding out who had screamed from up in the tree, or maybe they knew I was there all along. I looked around to see if I could get down by myself without falling and breaking my neck. There were several branches that looked like they would serve my needs so I started to make my way down the tree.

I stopped at about five feet. All the orcs were piled together and the one elf started walking towards me, stopping just below the branch on which I was sitting.

"Do you need help getting down?" he asked, as if it was completely natural for me to be sitting up in a tree, watching him and his brother slaughter orcs.

"Mm hmm," was all I managed to say.

He jumped up into the tree and helped me the rest of the way down.

"We saw a horse run past the orcs; was it yours?" he asked once we were back on the ground.

"Mm hmm," I said again.

"Stay with my brother," he commanded. "I will retrieve the animal for you."

He leapt up into the trees and was gone. I leaned against the tree for support. His brother stood, walked over to me and put a hand on my shoulder.

"Thank you," he said.

I shrugged and said, "Sure. No problem," as casually as I could. Of course, there's no way he bought my nonchalance since my body took that moment to succumb to the stress of the day and pass out.


	15. ...And Now We're Here

When I woke up it was dark. I blinked a few times to see if the darkness would clear, but either I was inside somewhere and the lights were all out or it was night. I slowly became aware of my surroundings, specifically of a warm, soft, _breathing_ object that was acting as my pillow. When I poked it and it said, "Ow!" I sat up quickly and scooted away from it until I hit the side of what felt like a cave.

"Who's there?" I asked, not surprised to hear my voice waver.

It, or _he_ , groaned. "Elladan," he answered, his voice sounding strangely subdued. At the sound of his name, my heart and my mind began to race.

"What…? Why…? Where…?" The thoughts flew through my head faster than I could verbalize them. What had happened after I blacked out? Why was I _sleeping on top of him_? And where the hell were we?

"Easy," he said quietly. "We are safe, for now, so we might rest." I heard him moving and could just about make out his figure across the room. It looked like he was trying to sit up and having some difficulty, which struck me as strange. He grunted and it sounded like he was in considerable pain.

"Are you ok? Do you need help?" I crawled towards him but couldn't quite see and instead bumped into him, knocking him down on top of me.

"Ow!" I cried out and heard his sharp intake of breath. He lifted himself off me and it seemed to take a great effort.

"I will be fine," he said, but his voice did not convince me.

"You don't sound fine," I said. "What's wrong with you?"

He was silent for a while and I wondered if I had offended him or said something wrong. I was about to apologize when he answered me.

"The blade that cut my arm was poison."

I gasped. This was getting all too real; I didn't want him to be poisoned. "Oh no," I moaned.

"My body will heal; it will just take time."

He sounded tired but not worried, so I hoped he was right. I sat next to him – I think; it was still difficult to see – and didn't say anything else. I wasn't sure what to say. I had so many questions I didn't know how to ask.

I heard him move again and make a noise that sounded like he was trying not to voice his pain.

"Can I do something?" I asked. I felt so helpless.

"Actually, you can." He sounded almost relieved. "About two meters behind you is a pack. In it is some flint. If you could bring it here, I could start a fire."

"I can't see…"

"I can," he said. He put his hand on my leg and removed it quickly, as if he changed his mind about the gesture. "I'll talk you through getting there.

With his direction I was able to find the pack and return to him. He rustled around in the bag and eventually pulled something out.

"Back away," he instructed. I slid away from him and heard him moving around, groaning a bit now and then. After a few minutes I saw sparks near where he had been sitting. On the third try, the spark became a flame, a warm fire in a pit in the middle of what was definitely a cave.

It was refreshing to be able to see again until I looked at Elladan. He looked tired, with purple circles under his eyes, and a sickly pallor to his skin. My surprise and worry must have shown on my face because he smiled weakly as he slid around the fire towards me.

"I surely I feel worse than I look."

I laughed, feeling uncomfortable. "I'm sure you _don't_."

He continued to smile but his fatigue showed in his eyes. "Do I look that bad?"

"Naah," I lied.

He chuckled and I had a hunch he knew I was not being truthful. Using his good arm, he lay back onto the cave floor.

"You can sleep now, again, and not want for warmth now that there is a fire."

So _that's_ why I was lying on him.

"Thanks," I said, not realizing how tired _I_ was until he mentioned sleep. I stretched out on the ground facing the fire and closed my eyes. I was almost asleep when I heard him whisper.

"You look so much like her."

I opened my eyes. He was on the opposite side of the fire, looking at me. Judging by his reaction, he thought I had already fallen asleep.

"Like who?" I asked, trying to stifle a yawn.

"Nobody."

His voice was quiet and I saw pain in his eyes, but I was pretty sure it wasn't from the poison in his arm. A thought crossed my mind.

"Is that why you hate me?"

He sighed. "I don't…"

"Whatever," I interrupted. "Is that why you've acted the way you have? Because I look like someone else?"

He stared at the fire, his lips pressed tightly together. I studied his face, the pain and longing in his eyes, and everything started to make sense. I mean, if the woman's own husband mistook me…

"Oh my God! You're in love with _Nerdanel_!"

His eyes grew wide and his head whipped to look at me. He schooled the initial shocked expression and his eyes narrowed. My mind started flipping through all of our previous encounters and ended at the last one; or, at least, what I remembered from the last one, and I groaned. If he thought I looked like her… what could have happened…? Did I even want to know?

"Is she here?" I asked instead. "I mean, around here somewhere?"

He nodded and gazed back into the fire. "I saw her last the night before my brother and I departed Imladris."

How was that possible? That night was a blur, to be sure, but I knew he was there with us, and then I followed him into the woods, and then Justin came across us… unless…

"What happened between you?" I blurted out. He turned an incredulous look on me, so I quickly added, "I mean, was it anything that if her husband had seen, he would get all upset?"

Elladan scoffed. "Her husband's lunacy is epic and his temper legendary. I could glance at her sideways and it might upset him."

Despite myself I laughed, but I sobered quickly when I saw his look.

"Sorry. It was just a funny, although accurate, description of him."

He shrugged his shoulder and then poked at the fire with a stick, causing the flames to dance a little higher. "I only spoke to her that night. She would allow no more, since she knew him to be here."

I swallowed against the lump in my throat. "Would it have upset _my_ husband, if he thought she was me?"

He rolled over onto his back and for a moment I thought he might not answer me.

"How am I to know what would upset a man whose acquaintance I have barely made?"

I knew by his tone that our conversation was over. I rolled over, turning my back to him and the fire and hoping that sleep would find me quickly.

* * *

" _What? Do you want for me to kiss you now?"_

" _No! It was just a game."_

" _Why, then, would you say what you did?"_

" _Because I never_ have _kissed an elf."_

" _Nor will you ever."_

* * *

It was still dark when I woke again and the fire had died down to embers. I shivered in the pre-dawn air and pulled my arms into my shirt to try and warm them. It did not work; I continued to shake, my teeth chattering so much I was amazed it did not rouse Elladan.

I glanced at him. His back was to me and his breathing was regular. I was willing to bet that lying next to him would be much warmer than lying over here by myself. I slid closer to the dying fire, debating whether I wanted to forego all pride and use him for his warmth or if I would stay over here and suffer by myself.

The breeze that blew through the cave made my mind up for me.

I crawled over to where he was lying and, trying not to disturb him, lay down in front of him. Our bodies weren't even touching and I could feel the heat radiating off him. It felt good. I'm pretty sure I fell asleep almost instantly.

* * *

" _Because I never_ have _kissed an elf."_

" _Nor will you ever."_

* * *

Someone was playing with my hair. It would have felt nice, had I not been sleeping. I groaned and shifted, hoping it would stop. It did not stop and that's when I realized _someone was playing with my hair!_

I opened my eyes and saw the ceiling of the cave. Then I saw Elladan, propped up on one arm and running fingers through my hair with the other. I must have missed something important.

Oh, and he had no shirt on.

"What are you doing?" I asked, pushing his hand away. That didn't work; he ran his fingers down my cheek, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. I closed my eyes and exhaled, trying to get my body to stop responding to him the way it was.

"I had hoped you would come to me." His hand was on my neck now, my shoulder, my collarbone…

"Whoa!" I sat up, grabbing his hand and holding it away from my body. I hope you understand the enormity of the strength and willpower it took for me to do so.

He flipped his hand around so he was holding mine, sat up and pulled me towards him. With an ungraceful bump I ended up almost sitting in his lap, my free hand colliding with his chest in an attempt to steady myself. His skin was on fire and I pulled my hand away quickly.

"You're burning up!" I exclaimed. I didn't know how hot elves were supposed to be – no pun intended – but I didn't think this was normal.

He took my chin and tilted my head up. (I may have been staring at his chest. Look, I am only human here, and was trying my best). My stomach flipped when I saw the way he was looking at me. His eyes were intense enough that it was hard to hold his gaze.

"Does that not excite you?" His voice was rough with an emotion that seemed a mix between anger and lust. "Is that fire not what you want?"

"I… I… uh…" I stammered, trying to give my brain a chance to figure out what the _hell_ was going on.

"Would that you wanted me the way you want _him_." With that, he pushed me away and got to his feet, his injured arm seeming not to bother him as much as it had during the night. He walked to the cave entrance and stood with his back to me, arms folded across his chest, blocking most of the soft light of the early dawn.

"As much as I want _who?_ What are you _talking_ about?"

He spun to face me. "Do you know how much it pains me every time she looks at me with your eyes, or smiles at me with your mouth?"

He grunted in disgust and kicked a stone out into the forest beyond the mouth of the cave. I sat where I was, silently shaking my head, trying to make sense of his ranting.

"You have no idea what I would give for you to look at me with the longing that _she_ does."

"Hang on!" I said, aggravated as realization struck. "I don't look at you with _longing_."

"My point." He waved an arm in the air, and before I could say anything else, fell to the ground.


	16. Insert Dirty Sword Euphemism Here

"Elladan!" I shouted, jumping to my feet and running over to him, all annoyance forgotten. He remained still as I dropped to my knees next to him. His eyes were open but it didn't look as if he could see me. My heart raced and I felt bile rise in my throat. He couldn't be _dead_ , could he?

But no, just as I was beginning to panic, his chest rose and fell. The movement was slight but it was enough to quell my fears. Relief flooded through me. I hovered over him, wanting to feel for a pulse or wake him or do _something_ , but afraid to touch him. I waved a hand in front of his eyes, still wide and unseeing. There was no reaction.

An animal howled outside the cave a distance away. I approached the opening and looked out for the first time. Even though the entrance was well secluded, if someone – or some _thing_ – passed by close enough we would be easily seen. There was more safety deeper in the cave but that meant I would have to move the unconscious Elladan.

I stood and walked around his body and stopped by his head. _It shouldn't be too difficult_ , I thought. After all, elves pranced atop snow; how heavy could they be, right? I squatted down and hooked a hand under each of his arms. His skin was cool to the touch which struck me as odd since he had been so hot not five minutes earlier. I heard the animal again. It sounded closer so I stopped worrying about the temperature of his skin.

I tried to stand up but nothing happened; I was barely able to lift his shoulders off the ground. I checked under my feet, thinking maybe I was standing on his hair or something. Nothing. There was nothing impeding my movement. Frowning, I tried again; this time pulling back instead of up, hoping to drag him without lifting. That eventually landed me on my butt, my feet having slipped out from under me, and he still hadn't budged an inch.

Now, I am not a weak person. In fact, I have been called "freakishly strong." But this elf-man was not moving. I crawled over, knelt next to him and tried to flip him, thinking maybe I could roll him away from the entrance of the cave. That didn't work either.

A noise outside the cave – and _very_ close by – startled me and I jumped to my feet. I was pretty sure something was approaching and here I was, completely defenseless with a comatose and half-naked elf lying at my feet. How was I supposed to defend myself against whatever was coming for us?

_His sword!_

I leapt over him towards where his pack was and, sure enough, a sword lay not far away. I managed to pull it from its scabbard – it was very light but still unwieldy, at least to me – and I looked at the blade. It was surprisingly clean, considering that yesterday it had sliced through roughly a dozen orcs. I realized that it was bigger than it looked when he had been using it. Not to mention I had no idea what I was doing with it.

Holding the sword like a baseball bat, I hurried back over to Elladan and stood between him and the mouth of the cave. Leaving both hands on the hilt, I held it out in front of me, parallel to the ground and pointing towards the forest. I'm not sure what I expected, but I certainly did not anticipate laughter. It seemed friendly enough. Nevertheless, I gripped the sword tighter.

"I think it's cute," a familiar voice said from somewhere above my view. I tilted my head to look up into the trees as Elrohir dropped down in front of me. "She's protecting him."

I let my right arm fall to my side, careful not to slice my leg off with the sword, and put my other hand on my hip. I may have been relieved to see him but he sounded far too bemused for my liking, as an adult would while watching a child try to do something they really weren't capable of doing. Granted, that was not far off the mark, but still…

Another elf landed next to him and after a moment I recognized him from the regrettable game of "I Never" the other night.

"Tirithel?" I asked, hoping I had remembered his name correctly.

"How sweet," he said to Elrohir, and then smiled at me.

Elrohir extended his hand and, guessing his intent, I handed him the sword.

"Could you be more patronizing?" I muttered, stomping over to the wall and sitting down.

Elrohir knelt down next to his brother and placed the sword beside him. I pulled my knees in to my chest and hugged them tightly, watching the elves and hoping they had a cure for Elladan. Tirithel knelt down next to Elrohir and placed two fingers on Elladan's neck. He left them there for what seemed like an eternity. Elrohir remained still; watching with his lips pressed tightly together.

Tirithel bent and placed an ear against Elladan's chest. After a few moments he nodded, lifted his head and placed a hand on Elrohir's shoulder. My stomach dropped.

"I suspect it _was_ spider venom, as you thought."

"Spider venom!" I gasped, visions of disgusting, car-sized spiders springing into my mind. I inched closer to the opening of the cave.

Elrohir's eyes flicked towards me briefly but he gave no other indication that he heard me.

"What is our course of treatment?" He didn't exactly sound worried, but he certainly wasn't sure of himself either.

Tirithel rose to his feet and shrugged. "Keep him comfortable; keep him safe. Eventually his body _should_ recover." He bent and closed Elladan's eyes.

"Why did you do that?" I shouted, not liking the way he said "should."

Tirithel raised his eyebrows. "He will be in enough pain when he wakes. He does not need his eyes to sting with dryness as well."

"Oh," I said, hanging my head.

Elrohir scooped his brother up – as if he weighed nothing at all! – and carried him farther back into the cave. He placed him down gently and turned back to us.

"We cannot risk the journey back to Imladris while he is still unconscious."

Tirithel nodded. "I can stay, if you wish, since I am familiar with treating victims of spider venom."

"Yes, that would be the best course, I think." Elrohir agreed. He then took me completely by surprise by smiling at me and holding out his hand. "Come. I will take you back to Imladris."

I did not get up. I don't quite know why, but at that moment, I didn't want to be anywhere but in that cave; I felt I _needed_ to be in that cave.

Elrohir sighed. "He will recover…"

"You don't know that!" I cut him off, hugging my legs as tightly as I could. My eyes started to burn and I squeezed them shut. I would not cry. I _could not_ cry, if I expected him to take me seriously and let me stay.

I felt him sit down next to me and I risked opening my eyes. His expression had softened considerably. He put a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm sure this is frightening…"

"I'm not _scared_ …" I cut him off again. I had a bad habit of doing that when I was upset or, well, _scared_. He raised his eyebrows. "Ok, maybe a little… but I want to help; I feel like I _have to_ help. You guys saved me, saved my life."

Tirithel walked over to where we were sitting and crouched down. "It would help, actually, to know how he was prior to losing consciousness."

I thought back to the nonsensical ranting, the accusations of the longing with which I looked at him, the hair petting. Yeah, even if knowing about all that would help them, I'm not sure he wouldn't kill me for telling them if he ever woke up. Or perhaps it was just my embarrassment about how all that made me want to develop selective amnesia about my marriage vows and jump his very delusional elvish bones that made me not want to divulge. Either way, I needed to tell them something constructive and not condemning.

"He was very hot and I think he was delirious."

Elrohir raised his eyebrows again. "You _think_?"

"Well…" I stalled, trying to figure how much to say, how far to go. "He thought I was someone else."

Tirithel's eyebrows drew together in a confused frown. "Who?"

"It matters not." Elrohir said almost too quickly. I looked at him out of the corner of my eyes. He _knew_ ; I was sure of it.

Tirithel shrugged. "Delusions are normal, as is the fever. Was he speaking coherently, other than confusing you for another?"

I paused, replaying our conversation in my head and berating myself for the heat I felt in my cheeks. "Yes. He made sense he just," I glanced again at Elrohir, "didn't think he was talking to me."

Elrohir was watching me intently but Tirithel had apparently gained all the information he needed because he stood up and said, "Good. That means the poison has not compromised his thoughts. In the instances when that happens…" He shrugged, the implication of the danger as obvious as if he had voiced it.

Neither Elrohir or I responded and Tirithel walked back over and sat down next to where Elladan was lying. Elrohir stood as well and held a hand out to me.

"Come. It is time for me to return you to your _husband_." Ok, I'm not sure if it was he or my guilty conscience that put the emphasis on the last word, but I was feeling an awful lot of judgment coming from the elf. I'm not even sure why, since I hadn't been the one being all flirty and grabby.

I finally consented and took his offered hand, standing up and dusting off my pants.

"Fine." I said, drawing out the word to try and convey my annoyance to him. I took a few steps toward the mouth of the cave before stealing a look over my shoulder, back to where Elladan still lay where his brother had placed him. I felt Elrohir's hand on my shoulder.

"He will survive."

I met his eyes and realized he was saying it as much for his own consolation as mine.


	17. The Return

I had only spent two nights away from Rivendell but it felt like so much longer. As we came over the last hill my stomach clenched, nervous to be returning. I can't really explain why but it's possible that it had to do with sleeping with two different elves over the course of those two nights. Wow. That sounded so much more awesome than it actually was.

By the time I bid farewell to Elrohir and found my room – thankfully not having run into anyone on the way – I had worked myself up into quite a little ball of stress. I hadn't seen Justin since – I paused to think – since before that game of I Never which seemed like a lifetime ago. I had no idea what to expect from him. I stood outside the door and took a few calming breaths, tilting my head upwards to catch the last few rays of the setting sun. Finally, I reached out, opened the door and stepped inside. My blood ran cold. There was a woman lying with her back to me in my bed; a woman who, although we shared the same hair color, was _definitely_ not me.

I was frozen in place. If I'd been carrying anything it would surely have slipped out of my hands and crashed to the floor. As it was, it was a wonder _I_ didn't crash to the floor.

I didn't notice Justin enter the room from what served as the bathroom until he called my name. I felt like I was in slow motion as I blinked and then raised my eyes to meet his gaze. He didn't even have the decency to look guilty.

"Thank goodness you're ok!" he said as he started to make his way around the bed.

I did the only thing I could manage at that moment. I turned and ran from the room, slamming the door behind me.

He followed me; of course he followed me, shouting my name so loudly they could probably hear it all the way back in the Shire.

He caught up to me and grabbed my shoulder, spinning me around to face him.

"Where are you going?" he demanded, having the nerve to sound annoyed.

I pulled my arm out of his grasp. "I don't know," I answered honestly, feeling that all too familiar burn behind my eyes. I bit my lower lip until I tasted blood.

He looked bewildered. "Are you… _mad_ at me?"

I scoffed at him. "Are… are… you… _kidding_?" I couldn't even get words out.

His eyes narrowed. "Why the hell are you mad?"

I turned to walk away, just wanting to be anywhere but with him. He grabbed my arm again.

"Let me go!" I demanded.

"No!" he shouted back. " _Talk_ to me!"

"Ok, I'll talk." I yelled, spinning to face him. "I get _kidnapped_ and it doesn't even take you two days to jump into bed with… with… with I don't even know who!"

"I didn't…" he started but I didn't want to hear it.

"Is this payback?" I laughed bitterly. "You saw _me_ with Elladan, so you had to go and get me back for whatever it is you saw, is that it? Well, I have news for you. That wasn't _me_ with him!"

"No! It was _her_!"

That stopped me, and I'm pretty sure my mouth was hanging open.

"Oh my God, you're sleeping with _Nerdanel_?" I laughed at the complete absurdity of the situation. "Oh, Fëanor is going to _kill_ you…"

"No, I'm not… How could you even…?" He broke off, most likely because I was hysterically laughing.

"Holy crap…" I managed to sputter. "You are so…" Tears were streaming down my face now. I just couldn't stop.

He stood patiently and waited for me to finish. Finally I was able to pull myself together.

"Well, at least she looks like me." I said, wiping tears from my eyes. "Or so I'm told."

"She looks _exactly_ like you," he answered, then added quickly, "and I'm not sleeping with her."

"Whatever," I said, and then giggled. I pressed my lips together to try and prevent another outburst. "I slept with her husband…"

"What!" The look of shock and outrage on his face was priceless. I completely lost control again.

He glared at me furiously until I was able to stop laughing.

"Not like that. Just next to him, you know?" He still looked less than pleased. "What? It was cold." He continued to scowl. "Oh come on. His wife is in our bed. You have absolutely no moral high ground."

He seemed to consider that for a moment. "She was tired and needed somewhere to crash." He shrugged. "I offered our room, since I've been staying with Legolas anyway. I just came back to get a few things."

I frowned. "Why have you been staying with Legolas?"

He shrugged again and looked at the ground. "Beats the hell out of staying by myself."

I felt a pang in my chest and I reached out to put my hand on his arm. He moved ever so slightly, just enough so that my reach fell short. I pulled my hand back and folded my arms across my chest.

"You were gone two nights." He still wasn't looking at me. "Any other warm bodies you care to tell me about?"

Not really. And anyway, I had come back to find a woman in my bed; how had this turned into a discussion about _my_ behavior?

When a few moments passed and I hadn't answered he finally met my gaze. It made me wish I hadn't said anything at all about Fëanor.

"Who?" he asked.

"You have no idea what it was like out there." My voice sounded choked and I was afraid some of the guilt I was feeling had spilled into it. "There were Orcs, and… monstrous dog-things…"

" _Who?_ " he interrupted, his voice dangerous and low.

"I… After the battle I passed out. I had no idea what was going on. I woke up in a cave, and it was dark… and cold… and I…"

" _WHO?_ " he asked again, and the intensity of his tone frightened me.

I swallowed against the lump in my throat.

I took a deep breath.

"Elladan," I said, watching his face for his reaction. He pressed his lips together and nodded once before turning and walking away.

I don't know how long I stood there, debating whether or not to follow him, but I think it was a while. By the time I decided to chase after him he was long gone. In fact, I made it all the way back to the room without catching up to him. I battled my nerves for a second time in not all that long and entered our chambers again.

He wasn't in there, but _she_ was, sitting on the bed, her back to the door. The only indication that she heard me enter was a slight tilt of her head. I remained in the doorway, waiting for her to speak or turn around or something. She did not.

I cleared my throat, thinking that perhaps she hadn't heard me. Slowly she turned her head to glance over her shoulder. I took a few steps closer to the bed. Nimbly, in one motion, she leapt to her feet and spun to completely face me.

I gasped, overcome with shock. If I hadn't been standing there myself I would not have believed it. It was as if I was staring at my own reflection. Her hair covered her ears but even if they were pointed it wouldn't have mattered. The rest of our features were identical enough that even I mightn't be able to tell us apart. She regarded me silently and I did the same to her.

"How…" I finally said, but my voice was weak. I swallowed, trying to wet my suddenly dry mouth. "How is this possible?"

She didn't answer immediately and instead stared at me with eyes that might possibly have been the only difference between the two of us. Her eyes were just so _old_. I don't know how else to describe it. They were ancient and deep and they were making me uncomfortable.

"I would be more inclined to ask 'why?'" she stated. Her voice even sounded like mine. It was unnerving.

_Why?_ That was a good question. Why on earth did I look like Nerdanel? Why was she here and not over in the West where she belonged? Why did my husband think it a good idea to loan out our bed to her?

Unfortunately but not unexpectedly the green monster won out. "Me too, actually. I'd like to ask 'why?' too. For instance, why are you here?"

She tilted her head. "I came seeking my husband."

"And instead found _mine_ …" Ooh. The claws were coming out.

A slow smile spread across her face. "As you, in turn, found _mine_."

The claws quickly retracted as I realized I was no match for this woman… elf… whatever. It was then that I think it finally dawned on me to who I was actually speaking. This was _Nerdanel_ , the only elf in the world able to temper Fëanor. She was amazing. And she had been through so much. Regardless of where I found her, she deserved my support and respect, not my venom.

I held out my hands towards her. "I'm sorry… I…" I faltered.

"I understand." She smiled again, but there was warmth to it this time. "It was long ago, but I remember being young, worrying over female attention to my husband."

There was something patronizing in her tone and it struck me the wrong way.

"I wasn't 'worrying over female attention.' You were _in my bed_. That's a little different than batting your eyes at someone else's guy."

She raised her head slightly, almost defiantly. "You were being kept warm elsewhere."

At that point I didn't care _who_ she was. Ancient elf or not, how _dare_ she.

"Oh, that's right… after your husband _kidnapped me_." A thought struck me. "Yes, kidnapped me while I was out wandering around, looking for _my_ husband who was mad at me because of whatever the hell _you_ did with Elladan in the woods the other night."

A brief moment of surprise showed on her face until she schooled her features. "I did not know we were observed."

"Oh, you were observed." I folded my arms across my chest. "You were observed all right." I kind of lost a little steam because I wasn't sure where I wanted to go with my accusations from there. Part of me wanted to ask her what it was that went on that night. I felt a twinge in my stomach and realized that most of me did not want to know. Right or wrong, I didn't want to picture Elladan doing _anything_ with her.

I continued to stare her down but she regarded me coolly, not moving or answering. I decided to abandon my argument for the moment, but not my animosity.

"He's looking for you, you know." I said, changing the subject.

"Elladan?" she asked, scrunching her features in a way that I stopped doing long ago when I realized how unattractive it made me look.

"No, Fëanor." I paused and then decided to needle her. What could it hurt, especially after her 'being kept warm' comment? "Although it's interesting that you immediately thought of Elladan…"

She raised her eyebrows. "We were just speaking of Elladan. I misunderstood to whom you referred."

I sighed. I was never going to unsettle her. Although that shouldn't be surprising, I supposed, considering her husband.

"Whatever." I said, getting tired of our conversation. I just wanted to go find Justin or _anybody_ else. "He's here. He's looking for you. He kidnapped me because he thought I was you." I waited a beat. "Maybe you can go find him."

A hint of a smile played at her lips. "Subtlety is not your strength, is it? No matter, I will take my leave of you, though it is not to find my husband; not yet."

I didn't get a chance to ask what she meant because she walked out of the room without even a backwards glance.


	18. Two Shippers in the Night

"Arandil… Arandil…"

My name, spoken in an urgently hushed whisper, broke into my dream and stirred me almost awake. I was barely aware of a hand on my arm, shaking me gently, trying to rouse me. I groaned and pushed the hand away; attempting to slip back into sleep, back to the unexpectedly pleasant dream.

I heard an exasperated sigh. Well, let him sigh; it was his fault I had cried myself to sleep.

"Go away," I muttered, not opening my eyes.

I felt the bed shift as he sat down next to my legs. I opened one eye and peered through the darkness at him. He was sitting at the foot of the bed, watching me, with his arms crossed against his chest.

"Whaaaat?" I whined, draping an arm across my eyes. "I was sleeping…"

"I require your assistance."

I recognized the voice, and it was _not_ the voice of my husband. Suddenly wide awake, I screamed and sat up, scrambling backwards against the headboard. He was immediately on his feet beside me, hand over my mouth.

"Do be quiet," he urged, once again whispering. "I mean you no harm and do not wish to draw attention to my presence."

With my heart racing I tried to pull his hand off of my mouth. After a moment he removed it but kept it raised, as if he were waiting to have to silence me again.

"Are you crazy?" I hissed, trying to disguise my nervousness.

"That depends on who you ask," he answered. Despite myself, I smiled. Who would have expected Fëanor to have a sense of humor?

"Right." I wasn't sure what else to say, I was so thrown by his droll response. He lowered his hand and sat facing me on the bed.

"In the forest you offered to help me find Nerdanel, my wife. Do you stand by that?"

He certainly didn't mince words. "I do." I shrugged. "It shouldn't be too hard; I just saw her before."

He stood, taking a step away from the bed. "You saw her?" His voice took on an entirely new quality, almost reverent. He was quiet for a moment.

"I did." I stared at his face, now more visible in the light of the newly risen moon and was shocked at what I saw. His eyes wide, he appeared almost youthful.

"How did she look?"

I scoffed. What kind of a question was that? I waved my index finger in a circle around my own face.

"Kind of like this."

The glare returned to his face but before he could respond there was a knock at the door. I jumped at the same time as he whipped his head around towards the sound.

"Arandil?" It was Legolas. "Are you well? I heard a scream."

Fëanor turned back to me and muttered under his breath what, by his tone, I assumed to be a string of curses.

"I'm fine." I called back to Legolas, gesturing at Fëanor to go into the other room. He shook his head. Of course he wasn't going to cooperate. Why would he? He was Fëanor.

"Might I come in?" Legolas asked through the closed door. My heart started racing in alarm. I didn't know why but I was pretty sure there would be problems if he came in and saw Fëanor.

I stood up and pointed at Fëanor and then at the door to the other room. He folded his arms across his chest. For someone who didn't want anybody to know he was there he was being awfully stubborn about hiding. I waved more urgently for him to leave. Finally he threw his hands up in the air and sulked into the other room.

As soon as he was out of sight I called back to Legolas. "Sure; come on in." I was going for 'casual and breezy' but I think I achieved more 'panicked damsel-in-distress.'

The door opened and Legolas walked slowly into the room, scanning it from right to left. He approached me but stopped about halfway between the door and the bed.

"Where's Justin?"

"What?" I responded as his question took me by surprise. I tried to figure out his train of thought but failed. "I don't know." Then something Justin had said earlier came back to me. "I thought he was staying with you."

"He was." Legolas looked towards the doorway to the other room. "He is not here?"

I fought the urge to follow Legolas's gaze and forced myself to trust that Fëanor knew how to hide. "No. I'm here by myself." The words came out in a rush and I hoped it wasn't obvious I was lying.

"Strange." Legolas said. He stood silently after that, giving me plenty of opportunity to worry that he knew I was being untruthful, which then turned to questioning myself. Why _was_ I lying? Why was I protecting _Fëanor_?

"What's strange?" I asked, hoping my spoken words would drown out the inner commentary.

"I was quite certain I saw him enter your chambers."

_Crap!_ My mind whirled, a mess of explanations and half-truths and finally came up with, "Oh, yeah… he was here but he left."

I cringed in the darkness, hearing the ridiculousness of my statement and hoping that Legolas was as dense as he sometimes came across in the movies.

"I see," he said, giving no indication whether or not he believed me.

I gave him a few moments to see if he would say anything else. When he didn't I forced a yawn.

"I'm really tired. Do you mind if I just go back to sleep?" I sat back down on the bed and then added for good measure, "If Justin comes back, I'll tell him you were looking for him, ok?"

He looked at me with that penetrating gaze of his. When it almost got to the point where I could no longer maintain eye contact, his regard softened and he smiled politely, inclining his head towards me.

"Fair dreams, Arandil."

"You too," I answered as he walked towards the door and then immediately wondered if that was the right thing to say. I mean, did elves dream? I supposed they would have to in order to have the phrase "fair dreams" as an expression.

The click of the latch interrupted my musings and I slid off the bed. Fëanor appeared in the doorway. We both stood silently facing each other for several uncomfortable – at least to me – moments.

"Thank you," Fëanor said after what felt like an eternity. "For your discretion."

His gratitude surprised me; not that he _shouldn't_ be grateful that I lied for him, you know, after he _kidnapped me_ and all, but that he actually _was_.

"No problem." I smiled tentatively at him. And then because his regard was unnerving, and when I'm uncomfortable in a situation I compensate with humor, I added, "I wanted to avoid bloodshed at all costs."

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, even before I saw Fëanor's shocked and surprisingly hurt expression, I realized my attempt at levity was probably in poor taste, considering at whom it was aimed.

My mind desperately grasped for a recovery, something that could erase the damage of my last words, but I came up with nothing.

"Is that truly your impression of me?" he whispered.

"I'm sorry." I choked out. "It's not. I didn't mean it like that. I…"

I completely faltered, not having any idea what to say, or why it was so important to me to fix the situation. He stared at me, looking betrayed and wounded, and all I wanted to do was run over to him and hug him and stroke his hair and whisper apologies and assurances.

"Holy crap," I gasped, realizing how powerfully he was affecting me. "I get it. I totally get it." No wonder people had followed him on what could only be described as a suicide mission. His charisma was unbelievable, and not in the I-really-like-you, you're-fun-to-hang-out-with kind of way, but in an almost hypnotic, compelled-to-follow-him-to-the-ends-of-the-earth-t o-kill-an-all-powerful-dark-lord way.

"You… _what_?" he said, regaining some of his prior severity.

"I know who you are, Fëanor," I said, standing straighter to fake courage I did not feel. "And I know what you've done; the good _and_ the bad."

He nodded once, looking resigned.

"So you will not help me."

Now being able to identify it, I was easier able to resist his thrall, but that did not mean I didn't feel its pull.

"I didn't say that."

We locked eyes again and stood silently, challenging. After a moment I cleared my throat.

"I'll help you find your wife, but we _cannot_ go sneaking around to do it. That is just going to cause all kinds of problems."

I'm fairly certain he clenched his jaw, though it was hard to see in the dim light.

"Very well," he finally assented. "I will go gather my belongings and meet you back here at first light. Then you can formally announce your intentions to help me to whomever you please."

He ended with an over exaggerated flourish of his hand and despite myself I smiled at the affectation and the hint of sarcasm in his voice. He nimbly turned on his heel and left without another word or a backward glance, leaving me alone again. I crawled back into bed and lay my head on my pillow. I quickly drifted off to sleep, thinking that I actually kind of liked Fëanor and wondering what exactly that said about me.


	19. Really? Philosophy This Late at Night?

I’m not sure how long I was asleep after my clandestine middle-of-the-night encounter before I awoke again. Thankfully, this time I was still alone in my room, but a strange and persistent noise outside would not allow me to fall back to sleep. I pulled the blankets over my head and tried to ignore it, but it was no use. Groaning loudly for nobody’s benefit but my own I threw the covers towards the foot of the bed and stomped over to the door. I slipped my shoes on and threw open the door, glaring into the passageway.

I saw nobody there.

I stood and listened to see if I could determine from which direction the noise came. I crept down the hall towards where I thought the sound originated. My wandering took me outside into the gardens, where I saw someone standing a few yards away, hunched over what appeared to be a small bush. Despite all my better instincts telling me to go back to bed, I edged forward towards the cloaked figure.

As I approached he stood and I recognized the pointed hat and long beard, even silhouetted in the moonlight. _Gandalf_ , my mind thought in what almost sounded like a sigh of relief.

“What are you doing?” I asked when I reached him, stifling a yawn.

“What are _you_ doing?” he replied, raising a bushy eyebrow.

_Fair question_ , I thought, although the obvious answer would have been ‘foolishly wandering around in the middle of the night.’ I kind of had the feeling he meant on a grander scale even if I only wanted to know what he was doing out here at this hour, making weird noises at the shrubbery.

“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “I came here to find out about that noise.”

Gandalf’s gaze pierced me. “And what did you find?”

I frowned. He stood right in front of me; how would he not know what I found? “It looks like you were singing to a bush.”

Gandalf nodded several times and then quirked his head. “Don’t tell me what it looks like; tell me what it _is_.”

“Ok, it _is_ you singing to a bush,” I said, in no mood to argue semantics. “I guess I’m just wondering _why_.”

“You should know,” Gandalf said, “because you are the author.”

If I’d been drinking it would have spewed out of my mouth. I knew I was staring but I honestly couldn’t figure out if he actually said what I thought I had heard. “I am the _what_?” I finally managed to say. He stood there smiling placidly at me and all that went through my mind was _I thought Radagast was the one on drugs…_

“I’m…” I started, but couldn’t get any further, instead gaping at him dumbly with my mouth hanging open.

“…the author,” Gandalf supplied with a nod and a gentle smile.

“Oh!” Finally, I got it. “You mean I’m in charge of my own destiny. I write my own story. Nobody else controls me.” I felt so proud of myself, but it didn’t last.

“No,” he said. “I mean literally; you are the author.”

“Okaaaay…” I drawled, trying to allow my brain a chance to catch up, or perhaps giving it a quick break so as to prevent its inevitable explosion. “So… if I’m ‘the author,’ why don’t I just write myself a way to get home? Why don’t I just click my heels together three times and land back in my house?”

He shrugged. “Perhaps if you were in possession of ruby slippers.”

“How the _hell_ do you know about the ruby slippers?” I didn’t really mean to shout at him. Thankfully Gandalf was patience exemplified.

“Because _you_ do. And I am merely one of your characters.”

“I’m fairly certain that’s some sort of copyright infringement right there…” I muttered and he smiled again, obviously having heard me, and exhaled in a chuckle. I considered what he said. 

“So… I can say anything and it will happen. You will do it.”

Gandalf made a noise that sounded like _humph_. “That's not how it works; you know that. You can't force your characters to do anything. But you control the underlying threads of reality.”

I thought back to what had happened so far. “So you’re telling me I _wanted_ Elladan to get poisoned?”

“You wanted a forgivable excuse to spend the night alone with him.”

I felt a little judged by the wizard and raised my voice accordingly. “And I wanted to get kidnapped so I could spend the night with _Fëanor_?”

Gandalf patted my arm. “It is more complex than that. Sleep on it and perhaps the dawn will bring greater understanding.”

I stepped back, away from him, away from the barely veiled accusations lacing his words. “How is it more complex? It’s actually pretty straightforward. You’re saying my husband is here; I can’t just go off cavorting with elves, so I made it that I had no choice. I didn’t _choose_ to spend the night with Fëanor or Elladan, so I’m innocent of any wrongdoing, but I got to do it anyway. Although, I would have thought I’d have a night with Legolas…”

Gandalf glowered at me. Being the author, I chose to ignore it in light of my new grand plan. I rubbed my palms together in anticipation, only half serious since this was the most ridiculous thing since, well, I guess since I landed in Middle Earth with my husband. Whether or not I wanted to prove Gandalf wrong I’m still not sure.

“So… if I’m the all-powerful author, I’m going to start making some demands here.” Gandalf’s glare intensified. “You’re about to say, ‘ _that’s not how it works_.’” I did my best Gandalf impression and then continued. “See, I know that because I’m the _author_.”

“That _isn’t_ how it works,” Gandalf said dully.

“Whatever,” I held my palm up towards him. “I’m coming up with my demands.” I ran through scenarios in my head. What was the least likely thing to ever happen? I smiled broadly as a particularly absurd idea hit me.

“Tomorrow I will rip Elladan’s clothes off… No! _no_!” I waved away that idea as another one came to me. “Better yet, tomorrow I will rip _Elrohir’s_ clothes off, but in a moment of desperate need I will press my mouth against Elladan’s… Right in front of his father… And as his brother watches…”

I giggled realizing the absurdity of not only what I had just said, but of the whole situation. Gandalf took a step closer to me.

“You need more rest. You are obviously tired.”

He snapped his fingers in front of my face and I became disoriented and fell to the ground. I blinked a few times, trying to clear my head and realized I was no longer in the gardens but back in my bed, the covers still haphazardly strewn at my feet where I threw them in my haste to go investigate a strange noise.

“Whoa,” I breathed. “Bizarre…”

I sat up and reached down to pull the covers back over myself. Once they were arranged to my satisfaction, I rolled over and closed my eyes, willing myself back to sleep and hoping I wouldn’t be plagued by any more strange dreams.


	20. APoM II, The Wrath of Elrond

I grimaced as I woke up and opened my eyes, glancing around the room. The open architecture, the beautifully intricate carvings; there was only one place I could be. _Son of a bitch!_ I thought irately, _I’m still freaking here._

Rivendell, Imladris, the Last Homely House, was starting to grate on my last nerve.

I mean, come _on_. Everybody and their brother wandered into my room whenever they pleased, which somehow always happened to be in the middle of the night, or so it seemed.

Ok, perhaps I get cranky when I don’t get enough sleep. But, nonetheless, if I remembered correctly, I would soon be graced with the presence of Fëanor. Again. And I didn’t wish to meet him on an empty stomach. I searched the room for something with which to write a note, worried what might happen if he showed up and I was gone. I found nothing and decided that it really didn’t matter. If I wasn’t there when he arrived he could just fashion a palantír out of the wine glass on my dressing table, or some other such object, and find me that way.

Luckily, I still wore my clothes from the day before, having cried myself to sleep, so I left the room to go in search of breakfast.

I realized fairly quickly that I had no idea where to go, since food always seemed to have been brought to me in the past. I wondered why Legolas hadn’t done so this morning. That thought lasted all of a second before I burst out laughing. Somehow I’d managed to skip right over the courtship period with Legolas that I had so often fangirled about, right to being the nagging wife. _He never brings me breakfast in bed anymore._

A voice behind me startled me out of my mirth. “I’m glad to see you in good spirits this morning.”

I spun around. “Good morning, Fëanor.”

He walked over and handed me some sort of pastry. Apparently now Fëanor brought me my breakfast. That one I did _not_ see coming.

“I trust you slept well after we spoke.”

I tilted my head and gave him my best skeptical look. “Do you really expect me to believe you want to make small talk?” I bit into the pastry and an appreciative _mmm_ escaped my lips; it tasted amazing. “Although this is fantastic. Thank you so much for it.”

He waved away my gratitude and extended his arm, indicating for me to walk with him down the corridor. “My satchels are packed and my horse awaits us at the edge of the forest. Have you made your own necessary preparations?”

I ignored his question, for the moment. “Your horse? Is it the same one? Is he ok?”

Fëanor raised an eyebrow. “I do not have available to me an endless supply of animals, so yes, on both counts.” One corner of his mouth pulled up. “Again you seem overly concerned about the beast.”

“I’m _sorry_ ,” I said, annoyed at his disdain. “That horse saved my life. I can’t help it if I feel some kind of fondness for him.”

He scoffed and stepped towards me, his face now dangerously close to mine. “The _horse_ saved your life?” He leaned in even more. “Have you no partiality for the elf that actually _did_?”

Uncomfortable with the intimacy of his breath against my cheek, I put my hands on his chest and extended my arms, trying to push him away. He didn’t budge and I only succeeded in distancing us by taking a few steps backwards.

“I am _not_ your wife, Fëanor.” I gritted my teeth and prayed that he hadn’t felt how my hands shook when they were pressed against him. I could not afford for him to notice any weakness.

“Oh, but you are much like her.” He smirked, but then his expression turned thoughtful. “It has been far too long since I’ve had company with whom I’ve felt comfortable enough to engage with in raillery.”

So Fëanor liked me enough to tease me. Terrific; this was everything I’d always wanted from a surprise trip to Middle Earth: to be the source of his amusement.

“I’m flattered and all… I think… but I need to go speak with Elrond before I go anywhere.” _And probably find my husband too_ , I thought, dreading the latter more.

“Very well,” he said, sounding like a petulant child. “I shall accompany you to his chambers, but I think it wise for me to wait outside.”

I laughed despite myself. “That’s probably true.”

We walked in silence through the corridors and then the gardens towards Elrond’s study. (I most certainly was _not_ going to disturb him is his “chambers”). I remained quiet because I was eating the rest of my small but delicious breakfast. Fëanor did for who knows what reason; I may have looked like his wife, but I certainly did not even pretend to understand him.

When we reached the entrance, I knocked on the large door, not really even expecting anyone to answer. I mean, what were the chances that he would be in there? So when I heard him call, “Enter,” from within, I jumped.

Fëanor raised his eyebrow but made no comment and reached out to open the heavy door. I gaped at him; surprised by the courtesy, although I should probably have stopped being shocked by anything he did by that point.

I crossed the threshold and stopped, surveying the scene in front of me. Elrond sat at one of the tables with two men, for they were definitely men and not elves. As one they swiveled their heads to look at me, turning away from the maps spread out on the table in front of them. I did not recognize either of them; I hadn’t seen them around Rivendell before. I wondered if one was Éomer. That would be awesome.

“Arandil,” Elrond said, sounding surprised. “I thought you might be Glorfindel.” He stood and the two men rose as well.

I glanced behind me; Fëanor was nowhere in sight. “Nope, sorry.” I inclined my head to indicate the papers spread across the table. “I can come back if you’re busy…”

“Not at all,” Elrond said with a wave of his hand. “We can continue our discussion later.” My stomach flipped. Elrond was making time for _me_. The small rational part of my brain beat the fangirl down with a stick.

The men stepped away from the table, pushing in their chairs. “We shall find you after the midday meal,” the taller one said to Elrond. As he walked past me he nodded his head once, his companion following and doing the same. I watched them leave and turned back to Elrond.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Do not worry yourself,” Elrond said, granting me one of his glorious, pulse-increasing smiles. “Boromir and Súlimir do not set out for several weeks; there is plenty of time for us to review their route.”

I barely heard the rest of his sentence after the name “Boromir.” I gritted my teeth and swallowed hard, trying to bite back any indication that the name had any meaning to me – I remembered how they all responded when Justin mentioned Frodo – and forced a smile.

“Okay,” I said, stalling for time to recover from my shock. Although, I’m not sure why it surprised me; I should have known Boromir would be around somewhere.

“Is there something with which I can help you?” Elrond asked, walking to me and placing a hand on my shoulder. He really shouldn’t have, I thought. There was no such thing as an innocent touch when you looked like he did.

I ignored the feelings radiating down my arm. “Actually, yes.” I paused, gathering my thoughts. “I’m not sure how to say this, or where to begin, so I’m just going to say it.”

I took a deep breath. I looked into his eyes. I berated myself for my completely inappropriate reaction and took another breath.

“Fëanor is here; he wants help finding his wife and I told him I’d help him.”

“Is that so?” he asked, folding his arms and narrowing his eyes in a way that made him look far too much like his son for my comfort.

“Uh… yes?” I said, unsure how to interpret his answer. I saw movement in my peripheral vision and turned my head. In the corner of the room, partially obscured from view by a large chair, sat Nerdanel. She stood when I caught her eye and walked over to us.

“I’m here,” she said, holding her arms out in front of her, palms up, as if offering herself to me.

I heard a gasp from behind me and spun in time to see Fëanor enter the room.

“Nerdanel,” he breathed as he walked towards us. Elrond took a step back and leaned against the table. I went to stand next to him.

“Fëanáro,” Nerdanel said, her voice even. She put her hands on her hips.

They faced each other without speaking for what seemed like an eternity. I glanced at Elrond. His arms were folded across his chest and his jaw was clenched, but he remained silent. Not that it mattered. The other two were oblivious to all else outside of themselves.

Finally, Nerdanel started chastising Fëanor – or at least I think she did by her tone and gestures; she spoke in Elvish and I didn’t recognize _any_ of the words – and I was impressed; he couldn’t get a word in edgewise. After a few minutes of berating her husband, Nerdanel stormed out of the study.

Fëanor stared after her for a brief moment before turning to me. “Thank you for helping to locate her.” He smiled grimly and added, almost to himself. “I never thought what came after would be easy.” With that he followed her out the door, leaving Elrond and me alone.

We both remained where we stood until I turned to him and held my hands out, palms upwards.

“The hell was that?”

“That…” He raised an eyebrow. “…was Fëanor.”

Before I could formulate a fitting response – ok, let’s be honest, I might never have – we heard a commotion coming from the gardens. Elrond ran outside and I followed. From the balcony I could see Elladan running towards us, carrying an only semi-conscious Elrohir in his arms.

Elrond and I raced down the stairs to meet them. When Elladan reached us he fell to his knees, almost dropping Elrohir to the ground. Elrond helped him lay his brother down on the flagstones.

I stood by, feeling helpless and terrified. _So much blood._

“What happened?” Elrond asked, and there was no mistaking the near panic in his voice.

“Orcs,” Ellandan said, breathless. He shifted off his knees to sit with one hip on the ground, propping himself up with his arm. “His stomach.” He took a deep breath. “An arrow.”

Elrond muttered something I did not understand and jumped to his feet. As he ran back towards his study he shouted, “Remove his shirt!”

I looked to Elladan, certain that Elrond meant for him to do it, but he’d scooted backwards and leaned against a nearby tree, breathing heavily. _Shit._ I examined Elrohir’s shirt. I tried not to focus on the blood soaking through the thin material. Instead I concentrated on the laces at the top, unfastening them as quickly as I could.

“Rip it!” Elrond shouted as he emerged from the study, a bag which I hoped contained some kind of magic elvish first aid kit in his hand.

I stopped pulling at the laces. “ _What?_ ” I yelled back.

“ _RIP IT!_ ”

Terrified of both Elrond’s fury and the fate of the elf bleeding out in front of me, I grabbed two hunks of material and pulled with every ounce of strength I had. The shirt tore open, exposing Elrohir’s torso, caked and still-flowing blood mingling together. Without thinking, I pulled off my own shirt and, balling it up, pressed it against the open wound, trying to stem the flow of blood.

Elladan groaned, but I only afforded him a quick glance. Sure, he must be frightened for his twin, but I had bigger worries at the moment. Elrond finally reached us and dropped to his knees, nodding his approval at my makeshift compress. He yanked the bag open and pulled out what looked like bits of plants and a mortar and pestle.

He started crushing the different bits together. “Here,” he said, “switch with me.” I shifted to the right so he could take over. He applied his poultice to the wound and Elladan moaned again. I turned just in time to see him slump to the ground.

“ _No!_ ” I gasped, it finally dawning on me that the last time I saw him, he’d been unconscious, and he probably hadn’t fully recovered yet. I hurried to where he lay and, kneeling beside him, checked him for vital signs.

“He’s not breathing!” I shouted.

I saw the agony in Elrond’s eyes. “The venom… If he’s been poisoned again… It’s too soon…”

I noticed the scratches on his arms and my heart dropped. Could he have been nicked by poison arrows? “Oh no _…_ ” I moaned.

Elrohir stirred and turned his head slowly towards me, his pain filled gaze meeting mine. Desperation filled me. I couldn’t worry about the scratches now; I needed to get him breathing again, and there was only one way I knew how. Swallowing hard, I looked down at Elladan and tilted his head and pinched his nose the way I was taught in a different life. Kneeling next to him, topless except for my bra, I ignored his brother’s and father’s frantic stares as I bent over and covered his mouth with my own.


	21. Why Yes, I DO Fletch My Own Arrows. Thanks for Asking

“There is something amiss with your wife.”

I had to hand it to the elf; he was the king of grand entrances. And cryptic comments. And stating the obvious.

“No shit,” I said, not looking up from the feathers and arrow I was trying to attach to each other.

“Pardon?”

I threw the arrow down on the table, aggravated at the stupid feathers – _fletching_ the elf would correct me if he could read my thoughts which, despite all evidence to the contrary, he could not – for not cooperating.

“I know,” I said through my teeth, then quickly added, “I don’t want to talk about her.”

Legolas walked over and picked up the arrow, twining the thread around the shaft and securing the feathers with ease. _Damn him_. I clenched my jaw harder. _It’s his and his stupid blue eyes’ fault I’m here in the first place._

“Your problem,” he began, handing the arrow back to me, “is you hold on too tight.”

I stood up and slammed the arrow against the table, splitting the shaft and earning myself an exasperated sigh from the elf. “I hold on too tight?” I shouted. “My wife is out gallivanting around the countryside with whichever elf strikes her whim and suits her fancy and I _hold on to her too tight_?!”

Legolas’s expression didn’t change except for a quirk of his eyebrow. “I spoke of your craftsmanship.”

I held his gaze with narrowed eyes. It was probably unfair to blame him for my predicament. Surprisingly, he was one of the only elves my wife didn’t seem to gravitate to.

“Oh,” I said, not knowing how else to respond.  I sat back down and he joined me at the table. I frowned at him for a while and he let me, not seeming to mind, or possibly understanding the reason for my mood.

“So fine,” I finally said. “What’s wrong with my wife?”

Legolas remained silent for a few very long moments. I’d grown accustomed to his mannerisms over the past week, or however long we’d been here, but I was in a mood today and everything annoyed me. Right before I was about to tell him to say something already, he spoke.

“Were you with her in your room last night at any time after your argument?”

I wondered at the question, but answered anyway. “No, I stayed here.”

Legolas nodded once. “You were not here when I returned late in the evening.”

His tone wasn’t accusing, but I still didn’t see where this conversation was headed and that irritated me. “I went for a walk.” 

He pressed his lips together. “I feared for your safety, with the strange happenings as of late, so I went in search of you. I saw you enter your chambers…”

“I told you,” I interrupted him. “I was _not_ with my wife last night.”

He blinked at me a few times. “ _Someone_ was.” He paused and raised his eyebrow. “Shortly after I saw who I assumed to be you enter your room, I heard your wife scream.”

“ _What?_ ” I gasped.

“Fear not,” he said, “She was well when I visited with her.” He paused again. “But she lied about your having been there and she lied about being alone.”

“ _What?_ ” I repeated. Just when I thought this day and this situation couldn’t get any worse, it did. I lowered my voice to try and keep from yelling at the elf. “What _exactly_ did she say?”

“She said you were not there, that you had been but left. I am certain _someone_ was hiding in the room.”

“So what did you do?” I stood with such force it knocked my chair over.

“I departed.” He rose as well and held out a hand to my half-formed protest. “She asked to be left alone.”

“Of _course_ she did,” I shouted. “She’s been sleeping with elves for the past few days; why would she want to sleep alone last night?”

I sank back down to my chair and dropped my head into my hands, hating how I felt. My stomach twisted in knots and I wanted to rip things apart and kick and punch things – or certain elves – but at the same time I didn’t have the spirit or the energy to do anything more than sit in a chair and sulk. I felt a hand clasp my shoulder and looked up at Legolas.

“Remember last time you assumed you’d seen your wife with the son of Elrond…?” he said.

I scoffed. “Well, was it Nerdanel in my room?”

He hesitated. “No.”

I grimaced. “So there you go.” I ran a hand through my hair, resisting the urge to pull it out.

“Come.” Legolas patted my shoulder. “I think it time for you to learn to wield a sword.”

“Really?” I asked, skeptical that _fencing_ would do anything to improve my mood.

“Yes, ‘really’,” Legolas said, pulling me up by the arm. “The men of Esgaroth claim sparring as the best way to relieve tension.

I shrugged and followed him out the door. “Well… if the men of _Esgaroth_ say so, who am I to disagree?”

I followed Legolas out and down the path towards Elrond’s rooms. He wanted to see if there were sparring swords I could borrow since I didn’t have one of my own.  My mind kept running over the scene Legolas had painted for me – my wife in our room, lying about my presence, covering for _someone_ – and I wasn’t really paying attention to where we were walking so I almost bumped into Legolas when he stopped short in the gardens.

He held up a hand and his meaning was as clear as if he had verbally shushed me.

I followed his gaze across the lawn and saw a bunch of people on the ground. At first I couldn’t make out who it was or what they were doing, but suddenly one of them turned her head towards me – her head that had just been bent over one of the men lying on the ground, suspiciously close to his face – and I recognized her.

“What the…?” I muttered, sidestepping around Legolas’s outstretched arm and stomping across the clearing. As I got closer I recognized Elrond kneeling next to my _shirtless_ wife, both of them bent over his two sons.

“What the _hell_?” I shouted, furious until she looked at me and I noticed more details. My stomach turned over and I felt bile rise in my throat.

She was covered in blood.

The world around me came to a screeching halt.

Back when we were still in the real world, before this Lord of the Rings nonsense happened, I had gone with some buddies to see this crazy action movie. You know, the kind where there’s really no plot, but there’s a scantily clad girl and they keep blowing crap up. And there may have been aliens involved, I’m really not sure because, like I said: no discernable plot. Anyways, there was this crazy battle sequence at the climax of the movie and I remember it because we mocked it afterwards: everything turned to slow motion and you could hear a heartbeat pounding loud in the theater but all other sound was muffled. The half-naked girl – whose clothes were even skimpier because somehow the battle ripped them – and the unlikely hero meet eyes as bullets or laser beams or some sort of CGI effect whizzes past their heads. And it’s all very dramatic.

That is exactly what happened to me now, I kid you not. Well… minus the CGI bullets.

I heard my heartbeat pounding in my ears. I didn’t move; she didn’t move. We just locked eyes and stayed there. I think Elrond may have been shouting to Legolas because out of the corner of my eye I saw him gesturing wildly, but I couldn’t hear anything he said.

My wife finally tore her gaze from mine and bent back down to one of Elrond’s sons – both of whom were lying on the ground – covering his mouth with her own. Somewhere in my brain it dimly registered that she _wasn’t_ kissing him, that she was performing CPR, and if that was the case, most likely the blood was someone else’s.

A hand grasped my shoulder, shaking me.

The world started to return to normal.

The elf my wife was bent over gasped and sat up and she sat back on her heels, exhaled a visible sigh of relief, and burst into tears. I dropped to my knees besides her and, forgetting all anger at whatever happened last night, wrapped my arms around her. She sagged in my embrace and sobbed against my chest.

Legolas knelt down next to Elrond, heads bent together speaking quietly to each other and I finally noticed the other elf lying in front of him, breathing shallowly, blood-soaked cloths balled up on his stomach, and I realized whose blood covered most of my wife. I held her tighter and thanked whatever God they believed in here that it wasn’t hers.


End file.
